


Whiskey and Wine: Reyes Vidal and Keema Dohrgun's Excellent Adventure

by queenofkadara



Series: The Vidal Chronicles [5]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Backstory, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Organized Crime, Origin Story, Planning and Plotting, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara
Summary: Reyes Vidal has never been interested in having friends. But when a starving, sassy angara tries to break into his apartment, he discovers that friends can be found in the unlikeliest of places.This is the story of how Reyes and Keema became BFFs... and how they decided to take down Sloane Kelly. I'm planning for this to span a range of moods including fluffy, cute, funny, and dark as fuck.





	1. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes returns home after a night of business and drinks, and greets an unwelcome visitor.
> 
> A/N: This was one of my drabbles from Reyes Vidal Appreciation Week! It ended up making a good first chapter... At least I hope :)

Reyes clumped through the residential complex towards his tiny studio apartment in the Port. He hadn’t stuck to his three-drink maximum tonight, but he’d purposely eaten two nutrient paste packs before heading to Umi’s, just to make sure there was something to absorb the alcohol. As a result, instead of feeling pleasantly drunk, his stomach felt like it was sloshing around with every step, making him slightly nauseous. 

As he turned the corner leading to his apartment, he noticed an angaran figure hunched near one of the doors, trying to unlock it. Reyes frowned; he couldn’t be sure, but the angara seemed to be trying to get into his apartment. _Either that, or an apartment right next to mine,_ he thought. Couldn’t hurt to hope. Reyes continued his slow approach up the hall, and as he drew near, he confirmed it: the angara was fumbling at the lock on his apartment with her version of an omni-tool. 

As he drew close, his fingers hovering over the handcrafted Sidewinder at his hip, the angara at his door suddenly whipped around, a lethally sharp but ornate dagger in her hand. She spat a stream of speech at him, nonsensical to his human ears but clearly dripping with hostility, hostility that was mirrored in her turquoise eyes. 

Reyes raised his hands, but kept the right hand low and close to his hip. _Hate to shoot a local, but my own skin has to come first._ “Hi there,” he said, his voice purposely calm and casual. He knew she couldn’t understand him, but he had no better way to communicate with her. 

He jerked his chin at his apartment door. “This is my place. Are you drunk?” he quipped. He raised one eyebrow and tried a closed-lipped smile; he still wasn’t clear on the appropriateness of various facial expressions among the angara, but a smile without teeth was pretty universal… wasn’t it? 

The angara stared at him suspiciously, her dagger still poised to sink into him at the slightest provocation. Reyes gazed back at her, his initial annoyance fading into curiosity as he examined her: she was thin, her cheeks hollowed and her thighs lacking the hefty musculature characteristic of the angara. Her clothing looked expensive but grubby. _She’s been living rough,_ Reyes concluded. And despite her initial hostility, her facial expression was suspicious, clever… calculating. She tilted her head and asking him something - at least, he thought she did; her voice turned up at the end in the way that questions did for many human languages. 

Reyes gave a helpless shrug then pointed at himself with his left hand; his right hand never strayed far from his hip. “Reyes Vidal,” he said. “Reyes for short.” She continued to gaze at him, her face losing hostility and becoming speculative. Reyes pointing at himself and repeated himself. “Reyes.”

After a long, tense pause, the angara lowered her dagger, then twirled it briskly - a dexterous movement that belied her fused fingers - and pointed it at herself. “Keema.” She twirled the dagger once more, an impressive little trick that clearly showed her proficiency with the weapon, then sheathed it at her thigh. She raised her chin and looked at Reyes expectantly. 

Reyes smiled a slow smile. _Interesting,_ he thought. She showed no signs of shame at trying to get into his apartment… which made him all the more curious as to why she wanted to get into it in the first place. At long last, he moved his hand away from his right hip and extended his raised arm towards her, in a friendly gesture he’d seen other angara do in the port. 

Keema’s eyes suddenly tilted upwards at the corner and she laughed… a mellifluous, sensual sound which, rather than arousing Reyes, made him feel relaxed. She raised her right arm and lightly tapped it against his own. 

_First contact,_ Reyes thought. _Doesn’t always have to be hard._


	2. Hope and Wariness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes surprises himself by inviting a stranger into his home.

The lock of Reyes’ apartment door turned green, and an affirming _shunk_ sounded as the two additional deadbolts disengaged. The door slid open and Keema examined it with interest, then huffed a rueful laugh and said something in Shelesh to Reyes, gesturing carelessly at the door.

Reyes smirked as he lowered his omni-tool. He couldn’t understand her, but her tone of voice clear. “I know, I bulked up the security on purpose,” he told her. “Trying to discourage thieves like you.” As he spoke, he pointed to the deadbolts, then jerked his chin at her with a teasing smile. Keema grinned back at him. Then they both stood there uncertainly. 

Reyes was pretty sure that things couldn’t get much more awkward than trying to make conversation with a person who was trying to break into one’s apartment, and with whom one didn’t share a language. Reyes swung his arms awkwardly as Keema fiddled idly with her omni-tool-like device. They made eye contact and immediately looked away from each other. 

Finally, Reyes cleared his throat. The awkward silence was too much. “Uhh, do you… want to come in, I guess? You seemed pretty desperate to get in a few minutes ago. You might as well.” He waved his arm towards the apartment in a welcoming gesture. He didn’t have anything valuable to steal… not here, at least. Keema eyed him uncertainly, then took a tentative step towards the door. Reyes nodded encouragingly at her, and she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, then jerked her chin towards the apartment and folded her arms. She said something in Shelesh that sounded quite emphatic. 

Reyes raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Seriously? Come on, you’re the one who was trying to break in!... Ugh, fine, I’ll go in first.” He rolled his eyes and entered his apartment, immediately kicking off his boots and pulling off his gloves. Over his shoulder, he called, “You’d better make up your mind quickly. I’m two seconds away from taking back my invitation.” 

He went over to the miniscule kitchenette and opened a bottle of precious water, then took a sip. It still smelled like rotten eggs, but at least it was potable. He glanced back at the door. Keema was stepping inside cautiously, her hand hovering over her thigh sheath, her brilliant eyes darting to the corners of the main room, the one closet, and the tiny bathroom. _Checking the doors and corners,_ he thought approvingly. He wondered whether she’d been trained to do that, or if it was instinctive. She stood for a moment in the middle of the main room, her shoulders tense; she looked like a cat preparing to flee. When she made eye contact with him, he raised his eyebrows and held the bottle out to her. 

Her eyes widened as she looked at the bottle, and Reyes felt an unexpected pang of pity. Keema didn’t do a very good job of hiding her feelings, and it was obvious that she hadn’t seen drinkable water for some time. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes on his face; she still looked faintly suspicious. _Probably wise,_ he thought, _given how some of our people have treated the locals._ His thoughts darkened as he remembered a scene he’d witnessed earlier in the market: two of Sloane Kelly’s lackeys kicking the shit out of a local. The angara hadn’t even tried to defend himself from their blows. Reyes scowled at the thought. “I’m not an Outcast,” he said sharply to Keema. “I’m not trying to trick you or some shit. Here.” He took another sip from the bottle to show it was safe, then plonked it on the small counter that partially separated the kitchenette from the main room. Without waiting for her response, he strode over to the bed that dominated the majority of the space in the main room, and sat down to pull off his socks. 

Frankly, Reyes was confusing himself. He couldn’t explain why he had invited this random angara into his apartment, especially since she’d been trying to break in. This wasn’t the first time a desperate local had tried to burgle him; he’d scared off the last one with his Sidewinder, and the incident had prompted him to install the deadbolts. So why was he treating this would-be thief any differently?

The situation was particularly strange because Reyes didn’t trust or particularly like _anybody._ People fell into two categories: useful contacts, or possible threats to be avoided or ‘dealt with’. But for some reason, he’d taken an immediate liking to this Keema. She was confident and bolshy, showing no shame for trying to break into his place. But she had also clearly gone through some hard times. Maybe Reyes was just bored and curious…?

He glanced up at Keema, then almost laughed: she was wiping her mouth, having chugged the entire bottle of water in about 5 seconds flat. She caught his eye and beamed at him. She placed her hand over her chest and said something that he interpreted to mean _thank you_ from the sincere tone of her voice. 

Reyes shook his head and waved her off. “No problem. You look like you needed it. Actually…” He rose from the bed and returned to the kitchenette, then opened a cupboard and pulled out a packet of nutrient paste. He offered her one, and a lump rose to his throat at the look of eagerness that washed over her face. Suddenly he knew why he felt an affinity to her: she strongly reminded of himself when he was younger. Not in her obvious hunger; Reyes had never gone hungry (except for those couple months of rationing on the Nexus, but that hardly counted). It was the way she fluctuated between suspicion and hope. With her open, guileless facial expressions, she made him think of himself as a lonely kid in Barcelona, hoping for kindness but expecting nothing better than indifference or cruelty. 

As though she could read his thoughts, the eager shine in her eyes was almost immediately replaced by wary caution. She drew back from him and asked a question in Shelesh. Reyes had no idea what she might have meant; she hadn’t made any gestures to indicate her meaning. Reyes gave a little shrug and offered her the packet again. “It’s nothing special, just nutrient paste. Here, look.” He cracked open the twist-off seal on the packet and took a tiny sip from it, then placed it on the counter close to her. She eyed it, longing and suspicion warring on her face, then asked him the same question in Shelesh.

Reyes shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Don’t know what you mean. But really, go ahead.” He waved his hand at the packet, indicating clearly for her to take it. Finally she took the packet and sipped from it. Her eyes drifted closed and she gave a tiny sigh, her face so contented that Reyes would have thought the sludgy nutrient paste was ambrosia. Despite himself, he chuckled.

Keema opened her eyes and looked at him. He mimed drinking something, then made an ecstatic face. Keema looked at the nutrient paste pack, then laughed - she really had a very nice laugh - and said something to him that sounded mocking. He smirked at her tone. _I bet she’s a mouthy smartass,_ he thought. _If only we had a translator…_

Reyes then remembered that he did have a Milky Way translator stuffed into one of the crates he’d brought over from the Nexus. Almost everyone in the Initiative had spoken Milky Way Standard, including all the exiles who had come to Kadara, so Reyes hadn’t used his translator in a while. To Keema he said, “I have a translator somewhere. Maybe we can start building a Shelesh vocabulary on it.” He supplemented his speech with gestures, pointing to his ear for the translator, then pointing back and forth from his lips to hers. 

Keema watched him, her face attentive but confused, then shrugged slightly and sipped again from the nutrient paste pack. Reyes waved his hand dismissively - she’d understand once he got the translator out - and went over to the closet to dig around. 

While he was searching for the translator, he watched Keema out of the corner of his eye. She prowled around his apartment, cautious but graceful, reminding him of a cat surveying a new territory. She didn’t touch anything, despite her obvious curiosity; but she also didn’t seem to be looking for anything in particular. It was seeming more and more like she’d just chosen a random apartment to try and break into, as opposed to targeting him directly.

This thought was comforting. Reyes did in fact have some intel and resources that would be worthy of theft, so it was good to know that she didn’t seem aware of this. 

It took him about 15 minutes to find the tiny translator. It was actually a two-part unit; one piece was a magnet that was surgically implanted under the skin behind his right ear. The second (and more important) piece was a tiny computing unit that attached to the subdermal magnet and converted alien speech signals into Milky Way Standard, then conveyed them to the cochlea by bone conduction. This was the piece he’d had to dig around to find.

Translator in hand, he turned to Keema and showed her the tiny unit. She picked it up delicately and examined it with fascination, then asked him a question. He took it back from her and did his best to explain what it was for, using both words and gestures. To demonstrate, he pointed to the first thing he could think of: his lips, since he was talking. “Mouth,” he said. He repeated the word, then said, “Shelesh?”

Keema got it immediately. She pointed to her lips, then to his. “Shena,” she said. Reyes repeated the word in Shelesh, and Keema smiled. Then she tried to say the word in MWS. “Maith?” Reyes smirked and repeated the word. “Mouth. ” Keema chuckled, then repeated it correctly, and Reyes nodded.

And so the evening wore on, with Reyes and Keema repeating back various words for common nouns in Reyes’ apartment. Keema relaxed considerably, eventually sitting on the edge of his bed and crossing her legs elegantly as they traded words. After some time, Reyes clipped the translator onto the subdermal magnet and gestured for Keema to say some of the nouns they’d established, and to his satisfaction, the translator immediately converted the simple Shelesh words to MWS. Oddly enough, the translator seemed to give her an English accent. 

Keema eventually yawned widely, and Reyes stifled a yawn of his own and checked his omni-tool. _Shit, it’s 02:27_ , he thought in surprise. He hadn’t realized how quickly the time had passed. He gestured to the bed. “Do you want to sleep? You look like you haven’t slept on a bed in some time.” Reyes thought for a second, then pointed at the bathroom then the bed. “You can shower if you want, and then you can use the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

Keema’s relaxed face suddenly became wary again, and she tensed and asked him something warily. The translator caught the word ‘bed’ and, through some impressive algorithm, it also spat out the word ‘together’. Reyes jaw dropped in horror. “No, no, I don’t mean that! To be fair, that is usually what I mean when there’s a beautiful woman on my bed. But _no_ , I just mean you can sleep.” Feeling unusually flustered, Reyes backed away from the bed and sat on the couch, then pointed emphatically to Keema, then the bed, and then gestured sleeping. 

Keema relaxed immediately, then laughed. Her tone was mocking, and to his chagrin, Reyes blushed. He scowled. “Whatever, you knew what I meant eventually,” he muttered. He went over to the bathroom and pulled out one of the three towels he owned, then offered it to her. “You can use the shower. But the water is rationed. Well, you know this better than I do. It’s five minutes only.” He held up a hand to her to show five (then hoped dearly that she’d know what this meant, given her fused fingers), then pointed to his wrist to mimic a watch… then realized she wouldn’t know what that meant either. 

Keema stared at him in confusion, then took the towel and smiled uncertainly. He sighed, then gestured for her to use the bathroom. “It’s okay. Go ahead. I showered this morning.” He returned to the couch. When he sat and looked back up at her, she was standing in the door of the bathroom, that heartbreaking look of hope and wariness on her face. 

“Go on,” Reyes said gruffly. “It’s fine.” He couldn’t make eye contact with her; her vulnerability was making his chest hurt. He pulled up his omni-tool and vaguely started reading through his messages and checking his schedule for the next day.

When Reyes heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing, he lowered his omni-tool. _What_ the hell was he doing? Reyes was not a sentimental man. Quite the opposite, in fact; he’d lost count of how many people he’d tortured and killed on Omega without blinking an eye. But one little laugh from this impish angara, this burglar, and he was inviting her in, giving her food, letting her use his precious water and sleep in his bed. And he wasn’t even attracted to her. What the fuck was he thinking?

Reyes leaned back on the couch and brooded. He might not be a sentimental man, but he did trust his own instincts for first impressions, and his instincts approved this Keema. Over the course of the evening, she’d shown herself to be intelligent, quick to learn, cautious, and apparently quite sarcastic if her tone and facial expressions were anything to go by. The former three traits were necessary in business, and the latter… well, it just made the work more interesting. If Keema was looking for work, he could groom her to become an employee. Reyes had a small number of people working for him already; all exiles who had come to Kadara on his shuttle. It would be useful - _very_ useful, actually - to have a business contact among the local angara. She could also be a cultural informant, teaching him the social customs and taboos so he could endear himself to the locals, make some trade deals with them, find himself an advantage.

Reyes nodded to himself in satisfaction, pleased with his plan and feeling much more comfortable with his decision to let Keema into his apartment. A minute later, she emerged from the bathroom wearing the same grubby clothes, but her skin looking much cleaner. She smiled at him and put her hand over her chest again, then said the same phrase she’d said earlier when he’d given her the water. 

Reyes smiled at her. “You’re welcome. Go ahead, sleep. I have work to do.” As she gingerly sat on the bed, he dimmed the lights with his omni-tool, then went back to reading his schedule and emails. Two minutes later, Reyes glanced over at the bed to see Keema curled in a fetal position on top of the blankets, fast asleep. 

A tiny smile lit Reyes’ face. He told himself that the feeling of warmth in his chest was satisfaction with his plan to make Keema an employee. Then he yawned, closed his omni-tool interface, laid back on the couch and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm a Speech-Language Pathologist by trade, so thinking about language barriers and communication is my jaaaaaam. I've spent a lot of time thinking about and portraying Keema and Reyes' initial attempts to communicate because I think it's an important and interesting perspective to tackle: I hope I conveyed their budding friendship in a convincing way, and that it was entertaining!!
> 
> Also: tiny, tiny reference to The Expanse novel series. Anyone catch it?


	3. Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes and Keema finally talk to each other! (Via translators.)
> 
> A/N: The language barriers continue! Yes, this is my third chapter of them not being able to talk yet. Deal with it. (But please stick around! This is the last chapter of language barriers, promise!)
> 
> I had to make up a few Shelesh words for this fic.  
> \- Yelaan = an angaran bread-like food, usually associated only with special occasions because it requires expensive ingredients.  
> \- Paarsir = angaran omni-tool.

Keema drifted slowly into wakefulness. The first thing she realized was that she was comfortable and warm, lying on a dry, soft bed. That was not normal. Her eyes snapped open in alarm. _Where in the stars am I?_

She sat up abruptly, fear flooding her body, and instinctively whipped her dagger out of its sheath as she looked wildly around the room. Then she caught sight of the human in the kitchenette, and the events from the previous night slammed back into her memory.

She’d tried to break into this human’s apartment and inexplicably, he’d invited her in… and even more inexplicably, she had accepted the invitation. Then the night had kept getting weirder, because he’d been… _nice_. 

None of the _vesagara_ had been nice to Keema; they’d largely ignored her. And then there was that group of them who were torturing her people, kicking them out of their homes… kicking her own family out of the port altogether. 

Keema lowered her dagger as the human - Reyes - turned around. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Keema couldn’t help but stare at his bare chest. It was so flat and monochrome. _Very_ weird-looking. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and he said something as he hurried over to the couch and pulled on a shirt. 

Keema sheathed her dagger and stood from the bed, then stretched; apparently she’d gotten used to sleeping on the unforgiving ground or curled up in corners, because her muscles felt oddly stiff from having slept on a comfortable bed. “Don’t cover up your weird body on my account,” she said. “It’s your home, you can wear what you like.” Angaran clothing was conservative more out of functionality than modesty; most angara, particularly those who lived on warmer planets like Kadara, weren’t bothered by nudity and tended not to wear much in the privacy of their own homes. 

Naturally, Reyes had no idea what she’d said. Regardless, he nodded affably and walked back into the kitchen, then said something and pointed at the object he’d been holding before he’d realized she was awake. Keema approached the kitchenette counter and examined the object curiously. It was roughly rectangular, about the length of her palm, brown and rough-textured. “Is it food?” she asked.

Reyes nodded, then said something that sounded like “bredd”. Keema reached for the rectangular thing tentatively, and Reyes nodded again, so she lifted it and took a bite. If he could eat angaran nutrient paste, she could probably eat human food.

Her teeth sunk into the soft, springy foodstuff, and immediately she realized it was a baked grain-based food, similar to angaran _yelaan_. She smiled at Reyes as she chewed it. “It’s excellent,” she told him. “I haven’t had yelaan in years. This is better than sex.” She laughed; it was sort of freeing to talk to someone who had no idea what she was saying. She could be as outrageous as she liked. 

Reyes chuckled. Clearly he’d caught something in her voice, or else his translation device was giving him a sense of her words. He replied in a mocking tone, and she grinned at him, taking another big bite of the human-yelaan. Reyes then pulled a bottle of water from a cupboard and slid it over to her across the counter. Keema couldn’t help but stare at him. He had to be either rich or powerful; those were the only possible explanations for why he kept giving precious resources to her like it was no big deal. Either that or he was insane. 

Reyes was talking again. He headed towards the closet and pulled out a sturdy-looking jacket and pulled it on while he spoke, then headed towards the door. Instantly, Keema felt guilty. She was getting comfortable in this stranger’s apartment, but obviously he had places to be. Regretfully she put the yelaan back on the counter and started towards the door to leave with him, but to her surprise, he held out his hands and ushered her back towards the kitchen. He continued talking, a stream of nonsensical babble, and pointed to the yelaan, then the water, then waved emphatically towards the counter. 

His gestures and facial expression were quite insistent. _He wants me to stay, I guess?_ Keema hesitantly sat on one of the high stools at the kitchenette counter, and Reyes relaxed. He said something else, waved reassuringly, then left the apartment, the ock and deadbolts engaging behind him. 

Keema took another bite of the yelaan and then a blissful sip of water. She was essentially locked in Reyes’ apartment, but this knowledge didn’t alarm her as much as it might have the previous day. This Reyes human seemed to be a genuinely nice person. _And if he’s not what he seems, well…_ Keema had her knife. And no one who knew Keema would ever call her helpless. 

The past four-odd months had been the worst of Keema’s life. In the space of those few months, Kadara Port had transformed from a bustling, lively angaran port to the kingdom of a human tyrant. Keema’s whole family had died, their savings stolen by Sloane Kelly, and Keema had spent the past two months alone… _alone_ , on her own, the most horrific thing for an angara to be. 

Keema yawned; she was getting sleepy again. The skeptical part of her brain, the part that had kept her alive these past few months, told her that she shouldn’t trust this Reyes person; but another contrary, instinctive part of her mind felt that she was in safe hands. As a compromise to appease herself, she walked over to the bed and sat up against the head of the bed, then loosened her dagger in its sheath so it would be easier to defend herself if she was suddenly attacked. Then she gave in to her drowsiness and drifted back to sleep.

****************

Reyes strolled into the market and headed for the mods booth. He had a meeting in 30 minutes, but first he wanted to get a translator unit for Keema. The exiles may not have been on Kadara for long, but learning Shelesh had been a top priority among the few linguists and skilled language-learners who had left the Nexus. Reyes had it on good authority that Sloane had given food and credit bonuses to the linguists and impromptu translators during that first month on Kadara. Most angaran translation units, and many of the Milky Way ones, were equipped to translate between Shelesh and MSW with relatively high accuracy. It was just a matter of getting his hands on one. 

Reyes strolled up to the salarian who ran the mods booth. “Sel. How are you?” 

“Reyes,” Sel replied with a brief nod, his eyes watchful for thieves as always. “What can I get you?” Sel and Reyes often bartered for small-scale items. Reyes generally pretended that he was tight on credits; given Sloane’s protection racket, it wouldn’t do for the Outcasts to know that Reyes still had a small fortune from his ‘adventures’ on Omega prior to joining the Initiative. But today, Reyes was willing to spend a little. “An angaran translator, if you have one,” Reyes said, leaning casually against the counter. “My translator has no Shelesh vocabulary. I want to start expanding my business contacts to the locals; you know how it is.” Sel had been the first of the market’s vendors to start using a Shelesh translator. 

Sel nodded, then pulled out two different translators. “Got a couple of models here. How much are you looking to spend?” Reyes negotiated briefly with Sel and managed to knock the price down by a few dozen credits in exchange for giving Sel first pick of any kett assault rifle mods he found in the field. Satisfied, he headed to the noisy eastern port to meet his contact. 

Once Keema had a translator, they could finally talk. He could figure out what her story was and how to convince (or manipulate) her into working for him. 

And importantly, he would understand her jokes. Spirits only knew Reyes could use a laugh in this place. 

***************

Keema looked up from her _paarsir_ when she heard the deadbolts clunk. A moment later, the door slid back and Reyes stepped in. Keema closed the interface of her paarsir and slid her knife back into its sheath. “Hey,” she said. Reyes smiled and strode over to her purposefully, then held out his fist. She frowned up at him from her position on the couch. “What’s this?” she asked, tentatively holding out her hand. 

Reyes opened his palm, and Keema’s mouth fell open as she saw the translator. “You got this for me?” she blurted, looking up at him in wonder. It was an angaran model that clipped onto the lateral orbital ridge, aesthetically designed to look like jewelry. He nodded, then said something. Keema shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you doing all this?” she demanded, her eyes scanning his face as though she could find the answers if she looked hard enough. “You don’t even know me.” 

Reyes rolled his eyes and spoke again, his voice exasperated as he finally grabbed her hand and put the translator in it. He kept talking, pointing to his paarsir and then to her translator. Then he removed his translator from behind his ear and pointed to Keema’s paarsir. 

Keema instantly understood. “Oh yes, of course! Give that to me.” She took his translator and pulled up her paarsir interface. Once she uploaded her paarsir’s Shelesh lexicon to his translator, the algorithms could do the rest of the work. In the meantime, she put on her translator and activated it. Suddenly she could understand him. 

“-swallowed my own vomit and it tasted better than nutrient paste. The one thing I wish I’d brought over from the Nexus was some hot sauce. This shit could use some help.” Reyes turned back towards her, a packet of nutrient paste in his hand, and frowned at the sight of Keema doubled over in laughter. “What?” 

“That’s quite the introduction, Reyes,” Keema chuckled, even though he couldn’t understand her; the upload to his translator was almost complete. “But you’re right, nutrient paste isn’t known for its flavour. You’ll get used to it.” Her paarsir pinged, and she held the translator out to him. “Here, it’s ready.” 

Reyes walked over and took the translator. “Here goes nothing,” he said with a smirk. “I hope you’re as funny as you seem. Otherwise this will have been a waste of credits.” He winked at her, then reconnected his translator to the magnet behind his ear and folded his arms. “Well? Impress me,” he said, and grinned. 

Keema shot him a sardonic look. “You’re an arrogant, shit-mouthed smartass. How’s that for impressing you?” 

Reyes laughed in delight. “You already know me so well,” he purred. “Actually, what impresses me the most is these translation algorithms. Someone really did their homework with the swear-words.” He plopped down next to her on the couch and offered her the nutrient paste pack. “So. Tell me about yourself. Who have I invited into my home?” He smirked at her, but his eyes were serious. 

Keema tilted her head, eyeing him speculatively. She could come up with a smooth, clever answer… or she could tell him the truth. He was the first vesagara to take the time to try and get to know her. Maybe if he got to know her, learned more about her people, he would be willing to help them. Maybe he even knew that Sloane Kelly woman and could help Keema to get her revenge. _Truth it is._

“I was the Director of Commercial Activities in Kadara Port before your people arrived… before the kett became unmanageable,” she told him. “When Sloane Kelly started her ‘protection fees’, my family lost everything. They… they were sent to the badlands.” Keema swallowed, tears welling in her eyes as they always did when she thought of them. “I have no credits. I’ve been running and hiding from those Outcasts for over a month. I want to help my people here in the port, but… I can’t do anything until I’m back on my feet.” 

Keema looked at Reyes, her eyes burning with rage and determination. “I won’t hide my feelings on this. I _despise_ your leader. As far as I’m concerned, you vesagara are either with the locals, or you’re against us. There’s no in-between. So if you’re one of Sloane Kelly’s people, you should tell me now.” She raised her chin boldly, her hand drifting to her thigh sheath. 

Reyes gazed at her steadily. “I’m sorry for your family,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “But if you ever threaten me again in my own apartment, I will kill you.” Keema gaped at him, shocked at the sudden change in his demeanour. He stared back at her, his face dead serious, his eyes cold and flat. 

A chill ran down Keema’s spine at the look on his face. She hadn’t thought this friendly, generous, joking human was capable of such coldness. She dropped her confrontational posture and rubbed a hand over her face, then looked back up at Reyes contritely. “I’m sorry. That was extremely rude of me. I’m still grieving my family. It feels very fresh in my mind.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, and Keema made no attempt to wipe them away. Then she frowned at him. “What’s the matter?”

Reyes was staring at her, the coldness of his face tempered by apprehension. “Um. Nothing,” he said, then stood from the couch and strode to the bathroom. Over his shoulder, he explained, “You’re just… very, err, emotional.” He came back towards her, a handful of tissue in his hand. He was still staring at her as though she had sprouted a second head. 

Keema gave a hiccuping laugh and wiped away her tears. “Tell me about your family,” she urged. “Do you have family back in the Milky Way?” 

Reyes’ face immediately became closed. He walked back towards the kitchen and took a bottle of amber liquid from a cupboard. “Parents,” he grunted. Keema waited, but he said nothing more. He took a gulp from the bottle. 

“Do you miss them?”

Reyes turned and glared at her. “No. And by now they’re dead.”

Keema gazed at him, torn between confusion and sympathy. How could he be so unfeeling about his parents? And if he didn’t miss them, why was he angry? “Is there anyone you miss from the Milky Way?” she asked.

A flash of emotion crossed his face, then he took another slug from the bottle and looked at her, his face shuttered and hard. “No,” he said firmly. He leaned against the kitchenette counter and folded his arms. “So you need credits. I’m looking to start trading with the locals. Would you be interested in working for me?” 

Keema was fascinated by his weird behaviour. Didn’t he want to talk about how he felt? “Is this your way of avoiding the subject of your family? It’s not very subtle,” she said. 

Reyes dropped his arms, the hard look on his face tinged with petulance. “It wasn’t meant to be subtle. Are angara always this nosy?” he demanded.

Keema grinned at him, her sadness gradually easing. Reyes’ pouting reminded her of her little brother Taliin, and the comparison cheered her up. “Some of us are,” she replied casually. “Lucky for you, I was the _yalaon_ in my family. Being nosy is second nature to me.” 

“Great,” Reyes muttered as he shuffled back over to the couch. “I’m so glad I got you that translator.” 

Keema laughed again. Whether intentional or not, his grumpy behaviour was cheering her up immensely. Reyes sat next to her on the couch. “I am serious about the work, though,” he told her, his voice businesslike. “I’m interested in working with the locals. And to answer your question, I’m not officially associated with Sloane Kelly,” he added carefully. “So I will trade with everyone. Including the Outcasts, if it’s beneficial to me.” He gazed steadily at her, his face neutral and uncompromising, daring her to challenge him.

Keema narrowed her eyes slightly. She didn’t like that he was trying to be impartial; there was no place for neutrality when the villains were so clear-cut. But she could also see that Reyes was not someone to be trifled with. Keema knew now that she’d only seen one side of him - a friendly, generous side. But his threat… _I will kill you._

He’d been serious. Keema didn’t doubt that for a second. And if he said he would work with everyone, well… that included the angara. Maybe she could bring him around to their side… make him see how twisted and tyrannical Sloane Kelly really was.

Keema looked him in the eye. “All right,” she said with a smile. Reyes grinned back at her. “What kind of work did you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In real life, it can take field linguists YEARS to figure out a newly discovered language. Translation tech would initially be useless for deciphering a newly discovered language, at least at this point in time. I've had to turn of my linguistics brain and gloss over the translation/linguistics issues in order to move on with the story, so... this is me stepping off my soapbox now.
> 
> Baiiiiiii~  
> =^..^=


	4. Thievery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes uses Keema's stuff without asking, and rewards Keema for her hard work.
> 
> A/N: I had to make up a few Shelesh words in this fic. Paarsir = omni-tool.

Keema closed her paarsir interface and called out to Reyes, who was combing his hair in the bathroom. “Just got confirmation for that shipment of electrical parts from Vaanya. I told him to drop it next Ema - I mean, Thursday - in the morning. Lia is working that day, she’ll make sure it gets to Tartarus without interference.” 

“Great,” Reyes yelled back. Keema shook her head in exasperation and leaned back on the kitchenette stool so she could see him. “You are so vain. You spend more time on your appearance than any angara I know,” she teased. 

Reyes threw her an annoyed look and ran the comb through his hair one last time. “Angara don’t have hair,” he shot back. “It takes time to tame it. It gets wavy if it’s not controlled...” 

Keema snickered. “If you say so.” She swiped and tapped busily at her paarsir interface, then she mentally corrected herself: _omni-tool, not paarsir. Omni-tool.)_

Keema was making great headway on learning Milky Way Standard. She’d always been strong with languages; she spoke 11 angaran languages on top of Shelesh, so picking up an additional language wasn’t too difficult for her. This week, she was challenging herself to not use her translator.

Keema had settled quickly into her new role as Reyes’ angaran ‘agent’. She was starting to feel more like her old self than she had done in months. As Kadara Port’s Director of Commercial Activities, her old job had involved knowing almost everyone in the port, and a surprising number of the people she used to work with were still around; laying low, perhaps, but still around. Keema’s job with Reyes primarily involved either connecting Reyes with useful business contacts among the angara, or directly approaching them herself. Interestingly, Reyes had instructed Keema to keep their business connection quiet; when she provided Reyes with contacts, he approached them without bringing her up, and when Keema made the business deals, she didn’t mention Reyes, making it seem instead like _she_ was the one with resources and influence.

Keema hadn’t questioned his desire to remain on the periphery; she privately felt that the locals would be more accepting of working with one of their own species. And it was nice to regain some influence in the port, which she had lost when Sloane’s people had arrived and unceremoniously kicked her out along with the rest of the local administration. But Keema also had the sense that Reyes had some other motive. She wasn’t sure what it was, but for now, their business relationship was going splendidly. 

Funnily enough, Keema and Reyes had also become very friendly with a speed that surprised them both. This was undoubtedly related in part to proximity: three weeks after their first meeting, and she was still crashing at his apartment. Their shared sense of humour likely played a role, as well as their similar tidy living habits. But Keema had also never quite been able to shake her impression of Reyes as something of a younger brother, an _olaon_. It wasn’t just age, though he was a few years younger than her. It was the banter. When Keema and Reyes weren’t working or learning more about each other’s species, they spent long stretches of time trading insults and joking around over drinks. For someone who had no siblings, Reyes certainly had brotherly teasing down to a fine art.

He finally emerged from the small bathroom and approached her at the kitchenette counter, then stole her piece of toast and took a big bite before tossing it back on her plate. “That lotion you picked up is nice, by the way,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs as he pulled on his customary lightly armoured jacket. “Smells good.” 

Keema bit her molested toast and frowned at him. “I don't recall saying you could use my lotion. It's meant for nice angaran skin! Not your coarse human skin.” She pretended to shudder in disgust. 

Reyes smirked at her as he pulled on his boots. “My bathroom, my lotion,” he replied. Then, with an extra-cheeky smile, he added, “I used it on my feet.” 

Keema gave a huff of mock disgust and flicked a crumb at him. “You're so uncouth. No wonder the locals wouldn't talk to you,” she teased. Reyes chuckled and stood, fully dressed and ready to go out. “I'll see you later,” he said, holding out his right arm towards her. She tapped her arm against his, then he was out the door. 

Keema turned back to the kitchenette counter and pulled up her omni-tool. As the scrolled through her contacts and made notes, the other half of her mind mulled over her current living arrangement. Keema enjoyed Reyes’ company; her month of solitude had been especially difficult to bear in the wake of her family’s exile and subsequent death. But despite her growing friendship with Reyes, she suspected that he preferred his privacy. She would have to start thinking about finding her own place to live… but it was difficult, with Sloane Kelly’s extortionate protection fees. The fees would eat up a full third of the monthly salary that Reyes paid her. 

Keema sighed. _Crashing at a friend’s apartment, having no credits, being an employee instead of the boss… I thought I’d left this all behind ten years ago,_ she thought with resignation. Then she turned her mind back to her work, reassuring herself that at least Reyes was a fair employer. _It could be far worse. I could be working for Sloane Kelly._

*******************

Reyes settled himself at a table in a dark corner of Tartarus’ lower level. At this hour of the morning, the only patrons of the club were people who, like Reyes, were doing business that was a touch too shady to take place in the port proper. Reyes pulled up his omni-tool and called Octans, a salarian who had been in Reyes’ shuttle when they’d left the Nexus, and who had been working with Reyes since they’d hit the ground on Kadara. 

“Hey,” Reyes greeted him when he picked up. “You ready?”

“Yes indeed,” Octans confirmed pertly. “It’s payday, so I’m just waiting for him to access his accounts.”

“Excellent,” Reyes said briskly. “Enjoy your bonus once this is done. You’ve earned it.” The salarian chuckled in response. “I will. Over and out.”

Reyes settled back and tapped at his omni-tool, his face creased with concentration. In truth, he was idly playing a game on his omni-tool, his attention focused on listening in to the conversations around him. Reyes only ever spoke in oblique terms about his business when he was in public and only ever used encrypted frequencies, regardless of whom he was speaking with, but most people weren’t nearly as careful as he was… and as Reyes had learned some time ago in a galaxy far, far away, information was power. 

As he tapped in mock-concentration at his omni-tool, his thoughts drifted to Keema. Hiring her had worked out better than even Reyes had hoped. She was smart, competent and confident, with a whiplash-clever sense of humour. She was also an excellent advisor; Reyes had learned a lot about angaran culture and social norms both from her direct instruction, and from just spending time with her. Even though Reyes was giving the orders, he privately felt more like he was working with a partner than an employee. This semblance of equality was unusual for Reyes, who was accustomed to the Alliance’s chain of command and the strict pecking order of Omega. Their successful working relationship was definitely something he wanted to nurture… hence Octans’ little mission today.

After two hours of intel-gathering, Reyes took the lift back up to the port and checked in with Sel and the other traders in the marketplace, then met with a krogan contact at the east docks and made idle conversation with Dalton, the dock manager. And all along, Reyes waited, listening for conversations that would confirm that Octans’ job was successfully done. 

A few hours later, when the market was starting to quiet down and Kralla’s Song was starting to get noisy, Reyes finally heard what he was waiting for. 

“It’s all fucking gone, man! Every fucking credit! How the fuck did this happen?” The panicked voice of a human Outcast prison guard floated over to Reyes’ ears above the crowd’s noise. Reyes leaned against the banister and looked boredly off to the side, his full attention on the guard and his turian colleague. 

With a distinct lack of sympathy, the turian replied, “Did you leave your accounts open on the public terminal again?”

“No!” the distressed guard exclaimed. “I swear to God, I checked on my omni-tool this time!” 

“Did you use the Sloane’s secure server?” The turian sounded very bored. The human guard was clearly known for his carelessness… which was why Reyes and Octans had targeted him.

“I… yeah, yeah I did, I swear!”

The turian shrugged and started off in the direction of Kralla’s Song. “Don’t sweat it. Just keep a few credits from each apartment next time we do the rounds in the slums.”

“ _Don’t sweat it_? Someone stole every credit in my account, you fucker! And I can’t just skim from the fees - Sloane will notice…” Their voices trailed off as they rounded the corner, and Reyes casually pulled up his omni-tool, his bored face belying his deep satisfaction and amusement. He sent a quick message to Octans: _Well done._ Then he pushed off of the banister and headed towards his apartment.

Keema was about to become a few thousand credits richer. 

*******************

Keema looked up in surprise as Reyes entered the apartment. “You're back early,” she said. He often didn't come home until the earliest hours of the morning. “And you look unusually smug,” she added suspiciously, eyeing his pleased expression. “Who did you rip off today?”

Reyes laughed - a deep, friendly sound. “You wound me, Keema. I don't rip anyone off. I just ensure that my profits are optimal.” 

Keema smirked sarcastically. “Mm-hmm. And Elaaden is a rainforest world populated by those cats that you humans are so fond of.” Keema was very familiar with Reyes’ less-than-perfectly-legal business practices, but in all fairness, she had never seen him outright con anyone. He just was very… persuasive and charming. Alarmingly so, sometimes. “So what brings you back so early? Cancelled meeting?” 

“No. I have a surprise. Check your account.” He flopped down next to her on the couch as she pulled up her omni-tool with another suspicious glance in his direction. Then her jaw dropped in a universal expression of amazement as she saw the substantial leap in her credits compared to two days ago.

Keema was speechless, so Reyes filled the silence. “I stole credits from a prison guard. That amount should be enough for rent and Sloane’s protection fees for a month. The rest will come through in regular installments. Bonuses, if you will.” He crossed his arms behind his head casually, but his lips were curled complacently at the corners. 

“Th-there will be _more_?” Keema spluttered as she finally found her tongue. “This is - how much did you steal in total?”

Reyes gave her a reproving look. “A gentleman never tells. Let’s just say I took enough to cover rent for a couple months and protection fees for a few more.” 

Keema’s practicality overrode her shock. “ _Skkut_ , Reyes, that is a lot of credits. Where did you transfer them? If it’s all in one account, someone will notice-” 

“Keema, _relax_. The credits are split across multiple accounts under different names with frequent fluctuations in their net balances, so the influx won’t be flagged as suspicious,” he replied a twinge of annoyance. “I’m no amateur. You should know that by now.” He stood from the couch and strolled over to the kitchen, then grabbed a bottle of water and turned back towards her, his face stern and businesslike. 

_So much for never conning anyone,_ she thought to herself with a touch of trepidation. But she was more preoccupied with the unprecedented generosity of this gesture. “You… Did you do this just for me?” she asked uncertainly. 

Reyes sipped his water and nodded his head once, his bronze eyes serious. Keema felt a sudden lump of emotion in her throat and struggled to speak around it. “Why?” 

Reyes’ posture softened very slightly, but his voice remained brisk and businesslike. “Your work has been invaluable in connecting me to the locals here. I reward good performance. You deserve better than crashing on a couch in some _vesagara_ ’s apartment.” She smiled slightly at his casual use of the pejorative term, but Reyes wasn’t done. “I know you’re used to being the one to make decisions in this port, and I respect that. It makes you an excellent second-in-command. This,” Reyes swept his hand towards her still-open omni-tool, “is your due. You should feel no guilt about accepting this.” With that, he turned towards his drinks cabinet and pulled out his bottle of whiskey and two tumblers.

 _He considers me his second-in-command? He’s never said that before,_ she thought, emotion making her eyes hot with tears. Keema was on her feet and moving towards him before she knew what she was doing. As he turned towards her, the two tumblers in his hands, she placed her hands on his shoulders and touched her forehead to his. “Thank you, Reyes,” she said, her voice quiet and sincere. “This is… no one has ever done anything like this for me. Thank you, my friend.” 

Reyes patted her on the shoulder awkwardly as she pulled gently away from him. “Don’t thank me. You deserve it. Besides,” and he winked at her, “I’m the one who’s losing here. I won’t get to steal your lotion anymore.” 

Keema laughed. “I’ll leave it for you. Consider it a parting gift.” She and Reyes settled down on the couch, their celebratory tumblers in hand. As Reyes chatted with her about expanding their smuggling networks into the badlands, she thought about his generosity... and his criminality. 

So maybe Reyes was a hacker and a thief. Keema had already known he was a smuggler. But despite these small crimes, he was a genuinely good man. 

Now if Keema could just convince him to lend his resources, influence, and charm to dethroning Sloane Kelly, Kadara Port would be a much better place.

******************

Reyes sipped his whiskey and nodded thoughtfully as Keema explained the way the locals had survived out in the badlands. He knew how expressive the angara could be, and he knew that her gesture of thanks was no casual thing; touching foreheads was an angaran gesture of affection usually reserved for closest friends and loved ones. _She considers me a close friend,_ Reyes mused. The thought was unusual but… nice. 

As an only child with indifferent parents and a quiet Alliance soldier with no close friends, Reyes found it very strange to feel so comfortable with another person, especially one he hadn’t even known for a month. Reyes was an inherently private person, so he was constantly surprised by how _okay_ he was with sharing his tiny apartment with Keema. But as much as he enjoyed her company, he was still her employer, and it was best if they each had their own space. Especially since he wasn’t sure yet if she could be trusted to keep her emotions under control.

Reyes knew that Keema hated Sloane for getting her family thrown out of the port. He also knew that Keema wasn’t pleased about his trade with the Outcasts, or that he was friendly with them. In actual fact, Reyes was quietly working against Sloane by stealing from her (largely indirectly, like today’s hack, but occasionally directly as well; she was about to lose a shipment of ammo in the next two days) and by bribing her less-devoted agents to supply him with information. 

He knew that if Keema found out, it wouldn’t be enough for her; she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than Sloane’s ass being booted from the port. But Reyes wasn’t yet prepared to go that far. After all, Sloane hadn’t always been a tyrant. He’d seen her actions on the Nexus; he’d agreed with her parting speech to Tann and Addison, and he’d left the Nexus at the same time as her, albeit on a different shuttle. Reyes hardly knew Sloane, but he got the sense that between leaving the Nexus and arriving on Kadara, she’d changed somehow. He just didn’t know _why_. 

Reyes would watch and wait. If he’d learned anything back on Omega, it was that he would take patient intel-gathering over immediate action any day.


	5. Interlude: Whiskey and Wine I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema tells Reyes what happened to her when Sloane and the exiles arrived on Kadara... and tells him about her family.
> 
> Mild TW: Sadness. Mentions of death and a brief reference to PTSD.

Wine sloshed into the metal cup, its rich maroon colour dimmed by the cheapness of the drinking vessel. Reyes lifted the two cups - wine for Keema, whiskey for himself - and handed the wine to Keema as he sat bedside her on the futon. 

“Well, cheers,” he said jovially, raising his cup to hers.

She looked at his cup quizzically. “Are you trying to swap cups with me, or…?”

Reyes snorted. “No, you nut. You tap your cup against mine and say ‘cheers’. That's how some humans wish each other well before they drink.” 

Keema huffed. “How am I supposed to know that?” 

Reyes laughed and elbowed her. “Just tap your cup against mine already. _Cheers,_ ” he repeated emphatically, then clanked his cup against hers and took a sip. 

Keema sipped her wine. Her eyes widened in recognition as she swallowed. “Mmm. Reyes, this is my favourite Ayan wine. How in the stars did you get your hands on this?”

Reyes shrugged casually. “You knew a guy who knew a guy. I hooked it up.” He threw her a lazy smile. “I had you pegged as a red wine drinker. How clever am I?” 

Keema laughed affectionately. “Very clever, in this case. I'm actually impressed.” She sipped the wine again, basking in its flavour and in his company. 

Reyes leaned back and slung one arm along the back of the couch. “So on this special occasion of you moving out of my apartment, do you want to tell me why you were trying to break in in the first place? I never did ask.” 

Keema lowered her cup and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His lips were quirked in a playful smile, but his eyes were serious. 

Reyes only knew a snippet of Keema’s history. They had only spoken briefly about their families on that one occasion, on the first day they'd both had translators. Now Reyes was asking her again, not with the curiosity of a stranger; but instead, with the seriousness of a friend. 

Keema took a deep breath. “I was living rough for about two months before we met. Yours isn't the first apartment I broke into - well, tried to. Yours _was_ the first one where I didn't succeed.” She smiled ruefully at him and sipped her wine again, briefly closing her eyes with enjoyment before continuing.

“The apartments in this area are the easier ones - poor security. By the time we met, I was only trying to get food and water, but… When I first started breaking into apartments, I was trying to get my hands on anything I could sell for credits.”

Reyes watched her, a pensive frown on his face. “You had a pretty high-ranking job in the port. How did things get bad that fast?”

Keema looked at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Where were _you_ during the first two months of your people arriving? Did you not see what was happening in the port?” 

Reyes grimaced and shook his head. “Actually, no. I was out in the badlands, helping to clear out the kett settlements out there.”

Keema’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh. Well, Sloane wasted no time taking over the port. At first she was helpful; she asked the Head Director for access to any information we had, she spoke to the Port’s Resistance rep to learn what tactics were and were not helpful, and-”

“Resistance? What’s the Resistance?” Reyes interrupted. 

“They’re the angaran military force against the kett. Well, they aren’t really military, technically. But their efforts are getting more tactical in recent times; they have a very forceful leader, Evfra. Evfra de Tershaav.” Keema paused and cleared her throat, then took a gulp of wine. “Anyway. Sloane swanned in, being all helpful, and the leaders, they… You have to understand, we were getting desperate here in port. The kett were truly taking over. But while Sloane’s people - or the exiles in general, I suppose - were taking out the kett, Sloane was making the administration feel as though they didn’t deserve to be there because they couldn’t get rid of the kett.” 

Keema became angry as she remembered those days. Her job had meant she was high-ranked enough to see what was going on at the upper echelons of port governance, but not so high that she could do anything about it. “The Port directors were confused. When Sloane rolled in and you all got rid of the kett so quickly, they were grateful. Then when Sloane demanded to become a director in the port, they were… conflicted. They didn’t want to give power to a stranger, but they felt that they owed her for what she’d done to help. And she and her people never let them forget it.”

“What do you mean?” Reyes asked, his voice low and intense.

“Propaganda, essentially. Sloane’s words were sowing doubt in the Port Headquarters. And her people, her - her fucking _Outcasts_... their words were like poison among the locals. People were scared. They stopped trusting the directors. And then one day, Sloane was calling the shots, saying the port was safe thanks to her, and the directors… including me… were pushed out of our positions and replaced by her little friends. And nobody said anything.” She lifted her eyes to Reyes’ face, and a tear of shame rolled down her cheek. “Including me.” 

Keema lifted the metal cup to her lips, surprised to discover it was empty. Reyes stood and grabbed the bottle of wine, then filled her cup. She nodded a quick thanks and gulped a fortifying mouthful. 

“Then the protection fees started. It was… relatively innocuous at first. Sloane called it a tax, to help maintain the security on the planet and to continue the efforts to eliminate the kett. And maybe it really was used for that purpose. Who knows? But as time went on, the fees increased, even though there were no more kett. Sloane started kicking people out of the port, saying the port couldn’t support residents who wouldn’t contribute back. And then my... my family lost everything.” 

Keema took a breath, her voice catching on a sob as another tear trickled down her face. “There were four of us: me, my two siblings, and my father. I was the only one working; my siblings couldn't find any work. My father couldn’t work. He’d been injured by the kett, and his body healed, but he was traumatized. Before things got really bad, he used to go to therapy with other kett survivors three times a week. It was helping, but… the kett forces got stronger, and the clinic’s services went into crisis mode.” She gave a strangled laugh. “They were in crisis mode for almost two years before you lot arrived.”

Reyes listened intently, his frown deepening. “Where’s your mother?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Keema openly sobbed at his question, wiping vainly at her face. Reyes went over to her satchel - a bag containing all her belongings in the world at this moment - and dug around briefly before pulling out the towel he’d donated to her. He handed it to her with a faintly apologetic air. Keema managed a weak smile as she took it and dabbed her face. “My mother was really sick for a long time. Ever since I can remember, really. A rare blood cancer that affects our… err, the bioelectric energy storage cells, as I understand it.” Keema sighed, sipped her wine. “In a lot of ways, I was the mother of the family. I looked after my siblings, cooked half the meals when my father was working - before he got injured, I mean. My mother died seventeen years ago.” 

“How old were your siblings when she died?” Reyes asked, the corners of his eyes mildly creased in a small wince, as though he was expecting the worst. Keema delivered the answer he was expecting. “Young. Raana, my sister, was 12. My baby brother Taliin was 7.” Keema sobbed again as their faces flashed in her mind. _First Mom, then Dad, then Raani and Tal..._

She felt a warm pressure against her arm. Reyes, sitting next to her, had shifted slightly closer until his arm and leg were gently pressed against hers. Such a small thing, maybe, but Keema knew Reyes enough to know that this was his reserved equivalent of a hug. She drew strength from it as he poured a bit more wine into her cup. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened to your family?” Reyes asked. Keema couldn’t help but marvel at his composure. When they’d first talked about her family, he’d practically run to the bathroom to escape her tears. Now he seemed utterly at ease with her sobbing. 

Keema nodded. “I was paying protection fees for four people, including all our living expenses. I’d lost my job, none of us were working… The money disappeared alarmingly quickly. Then the day came when we couldn’t make Sloane’s payments… And Sloane’s people told us we had 24 hours to get out of the Port.” Keema laughed humourlessly, and her voice sounded harsh to her own ears. “Twenty-four fucking hours. Can you believe that? We’d lived in the port for years. Almost my whole life. And then _she_ expects us to get out in twenty-four fucking hours.” 

Keema rubbed her face, drawing a deep breath. “My sister and I decided I would stay in the port secretly, try to find a way to bring the rest of the family back: I would find a job, or find someone I knew from the Port HQ who could do me a favour, or… or someone who could lend us money so I could bring them back. We didn’t really have a plan, to be honest. For a week I stayed with different friends each night, always moving when Sloane’s people came back for their fees. I watched my friends get kicked out to the badlands one by one. 

And then my sister called one night and said my father had killed himself.” 

“Jesus Christ, Keema,” Reyes breathed, and Keema broke, curling helplessly towards Reyes for comfort. He wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed, her hot tears somehow making her face feel dry and stiff. 

Reyes’ embrace was somewhat awkward, as though he hadn’t much practice with tenderness, but his intention was what mattered. Keema took a shaky breath, wiping her face unabashedly on his jacket, then continued. “Raana told me afterwards that they’d been holed up in some cave, but the kett were approaching. My father told them he wasn’t going to be a burden to them anymore, and he just… he charged out into the kett with only his dagger. He was dead in less than a minute. Raani thought he’d been trying to distract the kett, divert their attention. Maybe it worked? I... I don’t know. But Raana and Taliin survived _that_ encounter.” 

Keema could feel Reyes hold his breath; his fingers on her arm tightened for a moment. He knew what was coming. Keema breathed in sharply through her nose, then out through her mouth. 

“After that, I started breaking into apartments, trying to find valuables to sell. I was desperate to get Raani and Tal back to the port. But nobody had credits to spare for luxuries anymore. It was futile. And two weeks after that, my sister stopped calling.” 

“Fuck,” Reyes muttered, squeezing her shoulder. Keema nodded, tears rolling down her face again. “I never heard from her or Tal again. But a few days later - or maybe it was weeks? I don’t know - I saw a human getting off the lift at the eastern docks wearing my father’s dagger. He was telling his friend that he’d taken it off a corpse out in the northwest.” Keema covered her face with her hands as though she was trying to hold in the pain, and Reyes squeezed her shoulder again. Then she lowered her hands, wiping her face briskly, and when she turned to look at Reyes, her eyes burned ferociously. “I followed him to find out where he lived. Then a few days later, I broke in and... I killed him.” 

Keema dropped her eyes to the floor. It had been an accident, truly; the human had woken up as Keema was retrieving the dagger from his bedside table, and she’d had no choice. Keema lifted her eyes and looked at Reyes, assessing his reaction. He’d raised his eyebrows, but his expression remained otherwise sympathetic. She got the sense he was surprised, but that he didn't judge her. Her shoulders relaxed and she continued. “I got my father’s dagger back. It’s all I have of them.” She patted her thigh sheath tenderly; the sheath containing the dagger she’d brandished at Reyes on the night they’d met. 

“And that’s… it, really. I kept breaking into apartments to try and survive. Who knows how long that would have gone on...” Keema trailed off. At the time that she had met Reyes, she had genuinely stopped planning beyond surviving the night. Keema had stopped imagining the future, uncertain of what it would hold; all she had known was that she couldn’t bear the idea of Sloane Kelly being part of it.

Reyes squeezed her shoulder again and stood to grab the bottle of whiskey. “Fuck, Keema. That must have been hard,” he said. His tone was quiet and pensive, but his words were almost amusingly obvious. 

Keema gave a small sarcastic laugh. “Losing my family, you mean? It’s usually considered a good reason to grieve, yes.” 

He turned to look at her, and his face was dead serious. “No, not that. I mean, not _just_ that. Of course that’s... fucking terrible. I meant that they needed you so much. Ever since you were young. Looking after your siblings and your dad, carrying the family… That’s a lot of pressure for a kid. For anyone, really.” 

Keema stared at him in disbelief. What he was suggesting went counter to one of angaran society’s major cultural foundations: that family came first. 

And it was as though he had read the most hidden, unvoiced part of her mind. 

Keema _loved_ her family. Her sister Raana had only been five years younger than her, and her best friend. Taliin had been a mischievous joker, popular with men and women alike, not unlike Reyes. Before he'd gotten injured, Keema’s father had been a larger-than-life character, with the most explosive laugh that prompted everyone around him laugh along. He had taught Keema everything she knew about knives and daggers, both how to fight with them and how to do tricks. And her mother… 

Keema’s mother had been kind, loving, an amazing storyteller… and physically incapable of sharing the load of parenting with her father, leaving Keema as the surrogate second parent. And when her mother had died, and then her father had gotten injured, there had been no choice. Keema had been the only parental figure left.

Reyes sipped his whiskey, then noticed Keema’s stare and lowered his glass. “Uh oh. Did I say something wrong?” 

Keema shook her head slowly. “No. You're just… the only person I know who… understands that feeling. It's not really common or… accepted among my people.”

Reyes gave a humorous _hmph_. “Really? Resentment is an essential human feeling. Milky Way feeling really, I guess. Resentment carried a lot of people out to Andromeda, in my opinion.”

_Resentment!_ Keema thought with wonder. _They even have a word for it._ “Including you?” Keema replied, partly in jest, but also with genuine curiosity. 

Reyes returned to the futon and gave her a tiny smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “No, actually. Not me.” And then he didn’t elaborate.

Keema tilted her head in exasperation. “Come _on_ , Reyes. Tell me something! What _did_ bring you out here? What was your family like? You know everything about mine now.”

Reyes gave an incredulous laugh. “Jesus, Keema. Maybe you should ask me something less personal, like my favourite sex position.” 

Keema laughed. She felt… cleared, in a good way. Like something dirty had been expelled, leaving behind a clean slate. She wasn’t sure if Reyes realized how good it felt for her to have someone to talk to about her family… to have someone understand how she felt. “You pervert. Is that all you ever think about?” she joked. 

Reyes smirked. “Well, how can I think of anything else in such a sensual environment?” he drawled, and waved a sarcastic hand at the barren apartment containing nothing but the single satchel of Keema’s clothes and toiletries and the old futon on which they sat.

Keema snorted. “Thanks for rubbing it in. Trust me, I'll be getting a bed as soon as possible.”

“Good. Now, what about decor? You might not have been a very good thief. I, on the other hand, know some people…” He leaned back comfortably and slung his arm along the back of the futon again. “Wanna steal something from one of Sloane’s people? It would be a kind of justice, if you think about it. I can hook you up.”

Keema laughed again, feeling lighter than she had in months. Or years, perhaps. Keema might be a _sholaon_ now, orphaned and alone, but at least she only had herself to worry about now. 

She sipped her wine and grinned as Reyes made some off-colour joke. _Although, perhaps I’m not really alone. Not anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: These interludes are my opportunities to delve more deeply into Keema's and Reyes' characters and to share backstory or fluff. They'll always be related to the main storyline, but are more optional in some ways. I hope you enjoy them and feel that they are still integrated well into the overall story!


	6. Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sloane Kelly is reunited with someone she didn't expect, and Reyes discovers a new problem plaguing the port.

“For the last fucking time, _no_ , we aren’t taking any angara recruits right now. They’re an unknown entity, for fuck’s sake. We don’t have the time or resources to focus on that right now. Understood?” 

Sloane Kelly waited for her recruiter’s confirmation, then ended the call abruptly and slumped back in her chair. Kadara was certainly a step up from the Nexus, but it came with its own rotten can of worms. 

The kett were almost the least of the problems. Kett were easy to deal with. They were a clear and obvious enemy, so there was only one solution: complete annihilation. 

When Sloane and her people had arrived in the Govorkam system to discover one alien species who sought only to kill and abduct members of the second species, she’d actually been relieved. It had been so long since Sloane had dealt with a clear-cut, black-and-white problem that she’d jumped wholeheartedly into eliminating the kett. Unsurprisingly, many of Sloane’s exiles had seemed to feel the same way, enthusiastically taking out kett after kett with a relish that would be concerning if they hadn’t all just spent some three-odd months trapped in a glorified tin can with rapidly dwindling food supplies. 

The angara, now: they were the more tricky problem. Well, the people themselves weren’t the problem per se; they were certainly civilized, as much as any Milky Way species (and arguably more so than some). But Sloane just could not find it in herself to respect them. 

Cognitively, Sloane knew it was wrong to blame the victim. She didn’t know the whole history behind the conflict between these angara and the kett. But she just couldn’t understand how the angara could be cowed by the kett. The Nexus rebels had been slaughtered and then abandoned by their own people. It was hard to fight your own fucking people. The kett, on the other hand, were complete strangers who shot before talking. In Sloane’s opinion, this was by no means a difficult problem. But the confusion among those idiotic, wishy-washy angaran administrators… 

Sloane’s lip curled involuntarily with contempt. She _refused_ to deal with that kind of bureaucratic bullshit again. She was finished with the slow, laborious council decisions, the hemming and hawing. Sloane was only interested in doing what needed to be done to ensure the security and safety of her people. And now that the immediate kett crisis was over, the secondary - and more long-term - crisis of surviving and thriving on this hellhole of a planet was paramount… and in particular, sustaining her Outcasts for the long-term. 

As her people’s ranks grew, Sloane would need to find ways to sustain their needs. The tax she’d imposed on the residents of the Port was working out quite well so far. And if most of those credits ended up in Outcast pockets, or supporting the development of Milky Way businesses, well… it was the price the locals had to pay for security and safety. There was nothing to be done about that. But as more exiles clamoured to join Sloane’s circle, and more residents were kicked out for not being able to afford the fees, Sloane knew she’d have to find an alternative source of income for her people sooner than later. 

Suddenly, her omni-tool sounded. One of Sloane’s krogan guards was calling from just outside the door. “What?” she answered impatiently. 

“Some turian wants to talk to you,” grunted the guard. “Says he knows you from the Milky Way-”

“Just let me in. She won’t thank you for wasting her time.” An irate flanged voice interrupted the guard… a flanged voice that Sloane knew better than any other, and hadn’t expected to ever hear again.

_Kaetus._

“Let him in.” Sloane was on her feet and striding towards the door without thinking about it. Before she reached the door, it opened and there he was, in the flesh. His posture was tall and proud, and he was as handsome as the day they had left the Milky Way - the day she’d closed the lid on his cryopod and watched his eyes drift shut with sleep. 

Sloane was not one for big displays of emotion, but her heart seemed to swell in her chest and push its way up towards her throat as she reached out her hand. “Kaetus. It’s damn good to see you,” she said. 

Kaetus nodded once and took her hand in a firm shake. “You too. When I heard you got kicked off the Nexus, I came as soon as I could.”

Sloane took her time removing her hand from his. “We didn’t get kicked off. We chose to leave. It was either that or stasis, can you fucking believe it?”

Kaetus shook his head. “I didn’t know what to believe at first. When I woke up on Elaaden with two krogan staring down at me, I thought I was having a cryosleep-induced nightmare. The krogan said-”

“Wait,” Sloane interrupted in confusion. “What do you mean, the krogan? You… You didn’t come from the Nexus? What… what happened to Ark Natanus?”

Kaetus’ mandibles lifted slightly in an expression of confusion. “I have no idea. I woke up on a sandy wasteland. There were damaged cryopods all over the place. I think the krogan who found me were collecting salvage. I thought they were going to kill me.”

“Why didn’t they?” Sloane wondered in confusion. Unfortunately, old grudges didn’t wear off even after 600 years, and there wasn’t much love lost between the krogan and the turians. 

Kaetus gave a small sardonic laugh. “I think they could tell that I had no idea what in the spirits was going on. They brought me back to their settlement. New Tuchanka, it’s called.” He chuckled again. “A fitting name for a settlement on a roasting-hot desert planet. But it’s actually pretty impressive. Nakmor Morda’s doing a good job out there.”

Sloane shook her head in amazement. “Fucking Morda. I’m surprised she didn’t _eat_ you.” In spite of herself, Sloane was impressed. _Wish we could take some lessons from the krogan. I wonder if ever…_

She shook her head, discarding the idea for now. “How did you get from… Elaaden, you said? How did you get from wherever the fuck that is to here?”

Kaetus spread his hands helplessly. “I escaped New Tuchanka. Younger krogan can be hot-headed and careless, you know how it is. I basically hitchhiked all the way from New Tuchanka to the Elaaden Port, then paid for passage on a ship. I used about two-thirds of my credits to get here, but… here I am,” he finished, his hands dropping to his sides. “By the way, you might be interested to hear that Nakmor Kesh joined the council on the Nexus. I overheard some of Morda’s people talking about it.” 

Sloane eyebrows leapt high on her forehead. Sloane would never forgive Kesh for allowing Tann to wake the krogan battlemaster, but she would be lying if she denied that Kesh was the most levelheaded person on the Nexus. “No fucking way. Tann stonewalled her the entire time I was there.” 

Kaetus gave another brisk nod of confirmation. “But I didn’t come just to pass on news of the Nexus,” he continued. He took a step closer to her. “You know you can count on me, Sloane. I’m here to help you in any way I can.” 

That ball of emotion swelled again in her throat, and she had to swallow hard to push down the urge to press herself against his tall and rangy form. Instead, she nodded briskly and gestured for him to follow her back to her chair. “Fantastic. I can use someone reliable and trustworthy.” 

Kaetus followed her up the dais. “As it turns out, I heard something on the lift that might help. There’s a doctor, Ryota Nakamoto, who seems to have discovered a natural antibiotic that on this planet. It sounds like he needs resources to refine the formulation and ensure that it works, but that might help offset the strain on medical resources at least.”

Sloane sat in her chair, one foot cocked up on the seat, and rested her elbow casually on her knee as she looked up at him. “Yeah, okay. It’s not exactly food and water, but medicine is helpful, no doubt. Put him in touch with me, will you? Maybe we can set him up somewhere. A lab or something. What do scientists need for their research?”

“We’ll find out. I’ll set up a time for him to meet with you,” Kaetus replied briskly. Sloane coolly nodded her thanks, but she was rapidly losing her battle to remain impartial with him. She had always felt more at home with the turians and krogan than with her own species; she wasn’t the type to tippy-toe around people’s feelings or to mince her words, and most humans didn’t appreciate that kind of bluntness. But Sloane had never felt more at home with anyone than with Kaetus. 

Kaetus’ gaze slid over her face, and he seemed to see something in her bichromatic eyes that she was unable to hide, because he slowly approached her and placed his hands on the arms of her chair. He leaned down with his face near enough to hers that she could see the brilliant corona of hazel in his irises. “I was afraid I would never see you again,” he told her bluntly. “You know that I’m not just here to be your second, right?”

Sloane took a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like months, she smiled. “I know. You’re a big softie,” she teased gently. He chuckled deep in his throat, then traced the scarring on her lip and jaw with a gentle talon. “We have some catching up to do,” he murmured, then tilted his head to kiss her. 

Sloane gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck, savouring the slightly rough feel of the skin at the base of his crest. Sloane would always get shit done; it was just her way. But with Kaetus at her side, it suddenly didn’t feel like such a chore. 

*******************

**Three months later…**

Reyes almost tripped over a prostrate asari as he tried to step through the lower level doors of Tartarus. When he stumbled and accidentally stepped on her hand, she didn’t react except to hum peacefully and roll onto her side. 

Reyes frowned. This was the third time this week he’d seen someone lying deliriously on the ground in the port or down here in the slums. _Is there some kind of virus going around? Because that shit would be bad,_ he thought worriedly. He strode over to the bar. 

“Reyes,” Kian greeted him jovially as he wiped and arranged glasses behind the counter with brisk efficiency. “How goes?”

“Hey,” Reyes nodded. Then he jerked his thumb at the asari on the floor. “Do you see this? Has this been happening a lot lately?”

Kian peered over Reyes’ shoulder and swore softly. “Shite, another one? Yeh, I’ve been seeing it a lot recently. It’s some kind of poison, according to Nalia. The asari medic,” he supplied helpfully when Reyes gave him a quizzical look. “She’s over by that sad excuse for a supplies kiosk, by those abandoned cargo crates. Seems to be a local poison; at least it’s nothing Nalia’s ever seen. But all these poor fucks keep on mumbling about ‘oblivion’. Maybe the poison makes them hallucinate?” 

Reyes pursed his lips. This would bear more thought. “Hmm. Well, anyway, I was wondering. You know that room upstairs?”

Kian raised one eyebrow. “You mean the private room that only you have ever been able to afford? What about it?”

Reyes shrugged casually. “I was wondering if I can put a reservation on it. Indefinitely. I like to have a private place to drink.”

Kian smirked. “So drink at home like all the other normal lonely alcos.”

Reyes rested his elbows on the bar and batted his eyelashes winningly at Kian. “Come now Kian, don’t be cruel. I still want the option of company. Besides, if I drink here, I get to spend time with you…” He beamed charmingly at the bartender.

Kian laughed out loud and shoved Reyes’ elbows off the bar. “Get out of it, you useless flirt. The room is yours, but you know my prices.”

“You’re a prince among men, my friend. Thank you.” Reyes winked at Kian and headed up to the private room with a wave. 

With Keema’s business contacts among the angara and his expanding network of smugglers and salvagers in the badlands, Reyes had swiftly become one of the most affluent people in the port over the past few months. He’d successfully cultivated a reputation as being resourceful and friendly with everyone, Outcasts and angara alike. But no one really knew that behind Reyes’ flirtation with Kian, their relationship was entirely business. 

Reyes and Kian had only just met on the Nexus, but Kian had traveled to Kadara on Reyes’ shuttle, and the two men had just… understood each other. They were both goal-focused, and comfortable with grey moral areas when it came to fulfilling those goals. So when Kian had taken over the bar in the slums, Reyes had immediately known where to keep illicit merchandise, and who he could rely on to collect valuable information under the guise of the friendly local bartender. 

Kian and Reyes hid their business relationship under a mask of flirtation - and really, Reyes enjoyed the flirting, for Kian was pretty damn cute - but in reality, Kian and Keema were the two people on this planet that he trusted the most. 

Reyes unlocked the private room and stepped inside, then settled himself on the couch - _his_ couch now, for all intents and purposes. As Kian had suggested, Reyes had largely been the only person using this room, but as his smuggling and trading rings expanded, he’d realized that he really needed a designated ‘office’ for his business. If he had to spend all day working out of his apartment, he would either go nuts or he would never sleep. 

He pulled up his omni-tool and made a call to one of his people. She picked up immediately. “Boss?” 

“Lyza,” he said briskly. She, Octans the salarian hacker, and a human soldier and sharpshooter named Robert were Reyes’ core crew on Kadara. Lyza was the one he relied on most for collecting intel. “You know anything about these poisonings in the port and the slums?”

“Yes, actually,” she replied briskly. “They’re happening in the badlands too. It’s not poison, it’s a party drug.”

Reyes frowned in surprise. “ _What?_ ”

“Yes, a party drug. It’s called Oblivion. I heard some angara talking about it today in the port.”

_Oblivion._ That explained what Kian had said earlier. _Angara are talking about it? Maybe it’s a local drug trickling into the Milky Way population and we just hadn’t heard of it yet?_ But before Reyes could speculate out loud, Lyza answered his unspoken question. “It sounds like a new drug, from the way these angara were talking about it. It doesn’t sound like they had heard of it until recently.”

“Shit.” Reyes pursed his lips. If it was new to the angara, that meant it was likely introduced by Milky Way expats. “Find out as much as you can about this. Send me a report by the end of the week,” he ordered. It was possible that the new drug was just some bored kids experimenting, but there was also a possibility of something more political, more insidious… and Reyes couldn’t help but imagine how Keema would react when she heard about this. _Strangers from another universe, pushing out the local administration, then introducing a psychotropic drug to the population…_ Frankly, Keema would have a fit. 

“Will do. Anything else?” Lyza asked. 

“Continue your regular activities. That’s all for now.”

“Boss,” she confirmed, then ended the call. 

Reyes tapped his fingers on the his thigh, thinking over his options. He’d need to tell Keema about this. These days he always called her for business-related things instead of meeting in person, in order to play down the depth of their relationship. But he knew she was going to take this news personally and he’d have to defuse her reaction. 

Reyes ran his hand through his hair. To be fair, Keema’s emotional reactions had become more tempered as he got to know her better. Whether his control was rubbing off on her or she was just becoming more accepting of the current situation on Kadara, he wasn’t sure, but it certainly gave her an edge in their business deals: she was less emotional than other angara in her business dealings, and thus was often able to wrangle deals that were almost as good was what Reyes could manage. But when it came to wrongs done to her people, cool and confident Keema crumbled to ashes under the weight of her own anger. 

Reyes was well accustomed now to being Keema’s sounding board and to stopping her from doing anything she’d regret… like confronting Sloane’s people and getting herself beaten or thrown out of port. The first time Keema had seen an Outcast openly backhand an angaran woman for mouthing off at them, Reyes had had to physically restrain her and pull her into a deserted alley to stop her from jumping on the Outcast. 

Reyes was no stranger to rage, but he was so practiced in quelling his emotions and channeling them into a more long-term plan that he had initially been totally perplexed by Keema’s impulsiveness. But now they understood each other better, and they balanced each other well. Reyes was the cool logic to Keema’s occasional outbursts, and she was the rest-and-relaxation to his workaholic nature. 

Reyes finally shook his head. _I won’t call her. I’ll save it until tonight. Then she can blow up as much as she needs to._

******************

Keema’s omni-tool pinged, and she quickly tapped it, unlocking the door to let Reyes in. “Come in, come in! I’ve got good news for you,” she said excitedly, handing him a cup of whiskey as she sipped her wine. 

Keema’s whole apartment was transformed compared to her move-in day three months ago. Her place was far nicer than Reyes’ was; his apartment was strictly utilitarian, whereas Keema had plethora of soft furnishings in lovely shades of red, purple, blue and green. Reyes sat on an aqua chaise-longue and sipped his whiskey. “What’s up?” he asked, reluctant to ruin her good mood with his unfortunate news. He’d let her share her news first.

Keema sipped her wine and rested a hand on her hip smugly. “The Resistance’s head leader on Aya wants eyes and ears on the ground here. I suggested your name. He wants to get in touch with you right away.” 

Reyes raised his eyebrows. “That’s interesting. But how is that particularly good news?” 

“It’s good for you because he’ll pay you a substantial amount of credits, you greedy bastard. But it also means they might be willing to help remove Sloane from power!” Keema beamed at him as she sat on the couch. “I was wondering why the Resistance had been so quiet for the past few months. I guess there was a surge of kett activity on Voeld.” 

Her smile faded slightly, but she continued gamely. “It sounds like Evfra only just found time to turn his attention to Kadara, and he wants to make sure Sloane’s people aren’t just going to act like a second wave of kett.”

Reyes frowned slightly; he and Keema had had this conversation about Sloane many times. Reyes always ended by telling Keema the same thing: that he wasn’t prepared to get involved with the politics of the situation yet. Reyes still held some hope that Sloane would come around as she got to know the angara better.

Keema leaned towards Reyes entreatingly, clearly aware of what he was thinking. “Reyes, I told him you can be trusted to help. I won’t lie to you; Evfra is a complete hardass. But if you make a good impression on him, it’ll reflect well on all the Milky Way people. A good word from Evfra de Tershaav might help smooth the way for the relations all our people.” 

Reyes nodded slowly. Everything she was saying made sense. Reyes had been a recon officer as well as a shuttle pilot in the Alliance, so information brokering came second nature to him. And more credits in his pocket was always welcome. “Great work,” he finally said to Keema with a smile. “Thank you for setting this up. I… wish I had equally good news to share with you.”

Keema’s pleased smile faded. “Oh stars. What’s happened?”

Reyes sighed and put his cup down on the coffee table. “One of my people told me about a drug making the rounds on the planet. Now listen, I know you’re not going to like this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Guys, you all know I am Reyder trash to the end. But after I read Uprising, I couldn't help but wonder what happened to Sloane after she left the Nexus to turn her into such a monster. I just had to write something from her POV... and then Kaetus... and I just... Sloane/Kaetus happened. It just happened, guys. 
> 
> Any thoughts? Feel free to comment! :)


	7. Interlude: Whiskey and Wine II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes gets Keema very, very drunk and they talk about sex. 
> 
> A/N: I REALLY hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I had so much fun writing it! XD

Keema laughed… and then she just kept on laughing. 

Reyes smiled weakly at her. “Okay, Keems. I’m funny, but I’m not that funny.”

Keema was drunk. After telling her about the Oblivion problem, Reyes had had trouble calming her down. She was insisting that Sloane was behind it, and nothing Reyes said could convince her that they needed more information. Keema had gotten increasingly angry at him for trying to remain logical, so Reyes had had no choice but to fall back on a time-honoured human tradition for coping with emotional distress: he’d gotten her very, very drunk. 

Reyes reflected that perhaps he’d gone a little too far by adding whiskey to her third and fourth glasses of wine. She’d announced grandly that she loved the combination, but Reyes wondered if she wasn’t in the position to make judgment calls about the quality of a drink at this point. 

As friends were wont to do when the alcohol started flowing, she and Reyes had gotten to talking about sex. In truth, the topic of sex would usually have been something of an academic conversation given the physiological and anatomical differences between angara and humans, but Keema was way too sloshed for this to be anything but raunchy.

Keema turned to face Reyes and grabbed his arm. “You know who’s really _not_ funny? Evfra. You haven’t met him, but he’s a complete hardass.”

“Yep, you said that already,” Reyes said, trying hard not to laugh. 

“Did I? I did. Right. But I _didn’t_ tell you that his ass is also hard and as sculpted as rocks. Stars and skies, he is a gorgeous man. Those thighs? They’re so muscly from killing kett.” She hiccuped daintily before continuing. “Reyes, he is _always frowning_. I have never ever _ever_ seen him smile. It’s so fucking sexy. If I could, I would ride him straight from here to Zheng He.” 

It was too much. Reyes laughed until his stomach hurt and tears were squeezing their way out of his eyes. Keema pushed his shoulder, trying to regain his attention. “You think this is funny, do you?” she slurred. “It’s not funny at all. I haven’t had sex in years. _Years_ , Reyes. You don’t know what that’s like.”

Reyes wiped his face on his sleeve. “I do, actually. I haven’t had sex in years either.”

Keema stared at him, swaying slightly. “You haven’t? _You?_ ”

Reyes shook his head. “Nope. Not for 634 years, to be exact.” He smirked.

Keema stared at him in confusion, then suddenly she got it. “Oh! Oh. You’re stupid.” She feebly pushed him again in the chest. “Come on, surely you’ve been riding somebody on this planet. You know everyone.”

Reyes shrugged. “I actually haven’t. Work has been all the satisfaction I need.” He gave her a mock-virtuous look.

Keema wrinkled her nose at him. “Ew.” Then she sighed, her face becoming serious. “I miss touching someone,” she admitted bluntly. “I miss having someone touch me. It’s not just the sex part, but the _layaveraash_. That's what I miss the most.”

Reyes frowned. “What was that? Laya-what?”

“ _Layaveraash_ , you know.” Keema stared at him like he was particularly stupid child, then sighed in exasperation. “It’s that feeling you get from holding someone after sex. Well, not always after sex, but... just holding someone, having your body touching theirs, knowing you’re not alone in the world because someone is touching you, anchoring you to the world. It’s that feeling. I miss that.” She tilted her head curiously at him. “Do you miss that?”

Reyes shrugged lightly, but suddenly found he couldn’t make eye contact with her. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he knew what that felt like. “I definitely miss orgasms,” he retorted, changing the subject. “Wouldn’t mind having one that didn’t involve my own hand.”

Keema burst out laughing again. “Ew!” Then, as her laughing died down, she looked at Reyes.

Reyes looked back at her, staring into her big azure eyes. 

A sudden tension tautened the air between them. 

Keema frowned slightly and tilted her head quizzically.

Reyes raised his eyebrows and shifted his eyes to the side awkwardly, trying to look anywhere but at her. 

The tension turned uncomfortable. 

Abruptly, Keema wrinkled her nose. Then the two friends burst out laughing, and Reyes playfully pushed Keema off the couch onto the floor, where she collapsed in a giggling heap. 

Still laughing, she hauled herself back onto the couch beside him and took a slug of wine/whiskey, then impulsively wrapped her arms around his neck so that he was awkwardly leaning over her lap, his head tucked under her chin. “Come here, you idiot. I would _never ever_ have sex with you, but I love you anyway,” she said with fuzzy affection. 

Reyes chuckled, reaching up to awkwardly pat her on the shoulder. “All right, all right, you wino. Let’s get you something to eat.” He gently disentangled himself from her embrace, then stood and hauled her up from the couch, supporting her as she stumbled over her own feet. 

“I know you love me too, Reyes. Even if you’re too emotionally constipated to say it,” she teased as he helped her over to the kitchenette counter and settled her in a chair. 

Reyes smiled indulgently at her, then on an uncharacteristic impulse, he kissed her on the forehead. She probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow that he had done it. “Okay, Keems. Now what do you want? Nutrient paste, adhi jerky, bread…?”

As Keema loudly and emphatically demanded an adhi sandwich and Reyes prepared it for her, he thought about her words. Reyes didn’t have much experience with love, romantic or familial. But if feeling comfortable with someone, wanting the best for them, and just wanting them to be happy was familial love, then…

Then, Reyes supposed maybe he did love her. 

Not that he would ever tell her that.


	8. Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes chats with a goody-two-shoes doctor and a certain heterochromatic human.
> 
> A/N: To anyone who has read, left kudos, or commented: your encouragement and your readership give me life! I've gone through several moments of "auuugh why am I _doing_ this" while writing this fic, so your confirmation of interest has been so helpful to me. Thank you!!!

“Boss, we’ve got something. Major disturbance at a shelter in the badlands, east of Varren’s Scalp.”

“Tell me,” Reyes said briskly, and Lyza continued her report. “A victim dragged out of the shelter being beaten by Outcasts, a human male. He’s wearing typical doctor’s garb. I heard him shouting something about ‘it’s a medical breakthrough, not a meth lab’. He’s being transported to the slums now.”

“Have one of our people watch for his arrival. We need to find out what he knows.”

“Yes, boss.” Reyes and Lyza ended their call, and Reyes stood, adrenaline buzzing. Reyes had had people keeping ears and eyes out for information about the origins of Oblivion for about two months now, but this was the first solid piece of intel he had linking it to the Outcasts. 

Over the past couple of months, Reyes’ network had slowly but steadily expanded. Excluding his simple smuggling/trading contacts, he now managed a dozen people via Lyza and Octans who collected intel through simple observation, spying or hacking. Robert also managed a handful of ex-soldiers or fighters who could be called on to protect his resources if needed. 

As time had gone on, his agents’ intel had begun focusing more and more on Outcast activity, primarily because that was becoming more and more troublesome. Protection fees had increased twice in the past two months, and there had been reports of two angaran families being thrown out of port even though they paid their fees. Reyes had stopped buying the more expensive Initiative rations, transitioning instead to eating only nutrient paste. He was planning to channel the surplus credits into rations for destitute Port residents who got evicted, but he wasn’t yet sure how to do it without attracting unwanted attention. 

Reyes had followed his instincts and waited for information, and the information he’d been getting had spurred him to continue doing exactly what Keema had always wanted: working against Sloane. But his actions thus far had remained quiet, subtle, under the radar. Nothing to hugely upset the balance of power… yet. If the Outcasts were directly involved in the production and dissemination of Oblivion, more direct action might be warranted. 

And yet, Reyes was troubled. _Sloane wasn’t always like this,_ he thought, remembering the principled woman who had stood up to Tann on the Nexus to defend her people. Reyes had never actually spoken directly to Sloane, but he wondered if maybe it was time. _Maybe I can convince her to come around?_

But first, Reyes needed more information. He needed to know what that doctor from Varren’s Scalp had to say. 

***********************  
Later that evening, Reyes stepped off the lift and hobbled towards Nalia’s medic tent, clutching his abdomen. Lyza had confirmed that the doctor from Varren’s Scalp had been brought in and was receiving medical attention from Nalia. Reyes had already decided to speak to the doctor himself, so he’d needed a legitimate reason to be in the area.

So he had gone to Kralla’s Song, made fun of a few humans whose huge egos were probably inversely proportionate to the sizes of their dicks, and gotten into a fight that he’d purposely lost. Now, he sported a knife slash across the abdomen and a handful of bruises to his back and his face; not enough injury that it wouldn’t heal relatively quickly, but enough to require some medical attention.

Lyza had informed him that he was looking for a man who appeared to be of East Asian ethnicity, wearing black and red doctor’s garb. As Reyes stumbled towards Nalia’s tent, he peeked surreptitiously into the dilapidated shipping containers where Nalia’s patients lay or slumped as they waited for her attention. 

Finally, Reyes spotted the man he was looking for, lying on his side on a makeshift examination table in one of the crates. Reyes continued towards Nalia’s tent. The asari medic was young - a maiden, less than a hundred years old - but she was as poised as a matriarch as she simultaneously looked him over and tended to an apparently unconscious salarian. “Shallow cut beneath the ribs, punches to the lower back and cheekbone. Any blood when you piss? Any tingling or numbness in your legs and feet? Weakness, difficulty walking, that kind of thing?” Reyes answered her questions, and she nodded with satisfaction. “You’re not that urgent. But that gash will need some stitches and medigel. Go find somewhere to sit. I’ll get to you eventually.” 

Reyes nodded meekly, then returned to the doctor’s shipping container and slumped down on the floor. “Hey there,” he groaned. “Reminder to self: never pick a fight when you’re drunk. Pick the fight when you’re still sober enough to win.”

The doctor gave a faint smile. “Or don’t pick a fight at all. That way everyone wins,” he replied. _Aww, an idealist. How sweet,_ Reyes thought with amusement and touch of pity. But he nodded in rueful agreement. “You’re probably right,” he said. Then he stretched his hand out towards the doctor with a grimace of pain. “Reyes Vidal.”

The doctor reached down and shook Reyes’ hand. “Ryota Nakamoto,” he replied. 

Reyes then sat back with a groan. “I take it you didn’t get into a drunken bar fight, then?”

Ryota shook his head. “No. I got on the wrong side of Sloane Kelly, unfortunately.” He sat up gingerly, wincing with pain. Reyes noted a livid bruise along the length of the left side of his face, and a substantial lump on the left side of his head. 

Reyes whistled. “Wow. You must really have pissed her off. What, didn’t you pay her protection fees? Did you have gold fillings in your teeth that you didn’t pull out to give to her Outcasts?” Reyes snorted derisively. He needed to lull the doctor into being comfortable enough to tell him what Sloane was up to. 

His little ploy worked. Ryota relaxed slightly when he heard Reyes’ contempt for Sloane. “I just wanted her to treat a newly discovered bacteria as a medication and not as a psychotropic party drug. I’m a doctor,” he added, as Reyes frowned at him in (feigned) confusion. “I discovered this incredible strain of bacteria that works as a powerful antibiotic. But it’s also powerfully addictive and induces hallucinations in higher doses. I told Sloane about it a few months ago. She actually gave me a lab to work in, to refine the formula and determine the correct dosages for different species, and some technicians to help with the work. It was wonderful at first.”

Ryota sighed. “Then I started noticing that my colleagues were shipping out far more of the medication than was warranted by the population here. I started asking questions, and Kaetus - Sloane’s second-in-command, have you met him? - he told me outright that they were selling it as a mind-altering drug in the port, in order to fund the Outcasts. I asked them to stop, and they threw me out.” 

Ryota ran his hands over his face, then winced in pain when he touched the bruises on the left side. “The worst part is, I can’t even replicate my work to use the medication properly. They kept all my datapads, including the finalized formula.” He gave a heavy sigh and looked at Reyes, whose face was creased in genuine sympathy. 

Ryota shook his head and lay back down on his back. “Look, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I just… I only left the Nexus to help my patients. To help people stay healthy. And now I can’t even do that.”

Reyes twisted his lips. The good doctor was so damn idealistic it was almost painful. And yet… _That kind of optimism is what this place needs. A little hope._ “You can help out right here,” Reyes said. “This place needs a doctor. Didn’t you see how many people are waiting for treatment?” He waved a hand at the shipping crates and the people waiting for Nalia’s care. There were at more than a dozen people sitting and lying around. With a smirk, Reyes continued, “If you and Nalia both were working, I would probably be home already, sleeping off my whiskey.”

Ryota looked at Reyes, a pensive frown on his face. Finally he nodded. “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself. I can make a difference right here. Still…” he sighed. “I wish I’d kept a copy of that formula. We could treat so many infections at a fraction of the cost.”

Nalia appeared at that moment and looked down at Reyes. “Alright, your turn. How are you feeling, Doctor?” she asked Ryota as she bent down over Reyes and briskly pulled up his shirt to examine his wound. Ryota nodded. “Better, thank you, Nalia. I still haven’t shown any signs of internal bleeding, so I think I’m out of the woods there. I still have to stay awake another 15 hours, though.” 

Nalia smiled at him, then addressed Reyes as she began briskly suturing his wound. “Doctors usually make the worst patients, but not Ryota. He’s a real gem,” she told Reyes in a mock-whisper. 

“Well, it’s your lucky day. He told me he’s thinking of joining your clinic here, if you’ll have him,” Reyes replied, then winked up at Ryota. 

Ryota smiled ruefully as Nalia turned to look at him with pleased surprise. “Are you? That would be a huge help. Tonight has been a _quiet_ night, with only 12 new patients in the last hour.” 

Ryota laughed, then winced in pain. “Looks like I’ll have my work cut out for me, then.”

Nalia beamed at him, then briskly bandaged Reyes’ abdomen. “There. You’re done.” Without another word, she stood and strode off to the next patient. 

Reyes painfully got to his feet, then held out his hand again to shake Ryota’s. “It was nice to meet you, Doctor. Hope to see you up and working soon,” he said. 

Ryota smiled gratefully at him. “You will. And... thank you, Reyes. For the encouragement.”

As Reyes limped back to his apartment in the port, he thought about what Ryota had told him. The doctor’s testimony was pretty damning. The unprecedented beating he’d taken was even more so. 

Reyes ran a hand through his hair. It seemed that it was time to have a little chat with the Outcast leader herself.

********************

Two days later, Reyes walked to the Outcast HQ to meet with Sloane. Kaetus received him at the door, and Reyes nodded affably to the turian as he led him up to Sloane’s dais.

Keema had been livid when Reyes had told her about his conversation with Ryota, but she’d surprised him by calming down quickly and agreeing with his plan to talk to Sloane. Reyes was fairly sure that Keema was only agreeing because the noose of evidence around Sloane’s neck was tightening, and Keema wanted him to get it over with; but either way, at the end of this conversation with Sloane, he and Keema would know what they needed to do. 

As he approached Sloane’s seat, Reyes had to admit that she made a striking figure. Her huge chair, practically a throne, was backlit by afternoon sun slatting through the blinds, lending her silhouette a mysterious and powerful air. _That’s probably why she keeps the chair there,_ Reyes thought with amusement. _It makes her look so damn cool._

He stopped at the base of the dais, and Kaetus continued up to stand at attention beside Sloane. Sloane sat forward, her elbows on her knees as she stared at him. “Reyes Vidal, is it? What do you want?”

Rumours of Sloane’s bluntness had certainly been spot on. _Straight into it, then._ He rested his weight casually on one hip and smiled equably. “As I'm sure Kaetus told you, I supply 30% of your ammo and I have trade agreements with your quartermaster for mutually beneficial trades on armour. But you may not know that I work closely with the angara as well, including some who are off-planet. I’d like to propose a trade agreement between the Outcasts and the angara.”

Sloane leaned back in her chair, the shadows hiding half of her face. “I don’t think so. What do the angara have to offer? The Outcasts would just be pouring more resources into them. We don’t have the supplies to spare on trading with them. We have our own people to worry about.” 

“Angaran resources have actually been useful for the Milky Wayers I’ve worked with,” Reyes replied, his bronze eyes wide and earnest. “Their nutrient paste, for one, is extremely economical. They have textiles, technology-”

Sloane interrupted him. “We have our own rations. And what the _fuck_ do we need textiles for? You must be joking.” She shook her head incredulously. “No. No deal. Anyway, we don’t need to barter with the angara. We have enough credits to buy what we need from our own people here and on Elaaden.” 

Reyes purposely slumped a bit in feigned disappointment. “Are you certain? A trade agreement could help solidify an alliance with them-” 

Sloane cut him off impatiently again. “I told you, _no_. These are the last people we need to ally ourselves with. They can’t even protect themselves from the kett, for fuck’s sake. If we’re going to ally ourselves with anyone, it’ll be the krogan. At least they’re in agreement with us about who the real enemy is.” 

At that point, Kaetus cleared his throat gently, and Sloane waved her hand dismissively. “Thanks, Vidal, but no thanks. We’ll call you if we ever need a shipment of blankets or something.” She gave a condescending little snort and jerked her chin at him, and Kaetus led him back to the door.

As Reyes reached the door, he turned to Kaetus and shook his hand ruefully. “Thanks for setting this up,” he said politely, then slapped Kaetus jovially on the shoulder… leaving a tiny mic in place. Kaetus nodded at him expressionlessly - Reyes wasn’t sure he’d ever met a turian who was as stone-faced - then turned to rejoin Sloane in her throne room. 

_Well, that was a bust. But also extremely telling,_ Reyes thought. Sloane had just confirmed that she had no interest in cooperating with the angara. And that little comment about the ‘real enemy’, when Kaetus had cut her off… That was worrisome. Reyes was glad he’d brought the mic. 

As he walked back towards the lift, he quickly tapped at his omni-tool and turned the mic on, calibrating it to play back to him through his translator. Kaetus’ voice came through loud and clear.

“-told him too much.Yes, he trades with us, but he trades with everyone. We need to be careful.”

Sloane’s voice dripped contempt when she replied. “Kaetus, he’s just a smuggler. And he’s soft; look how much of a tender spot he has for the angara. Don’t worry about him. We need to focus on getting the krogan on our side. Once we’re more settled here, we can return to the Nexus with the krogan and demand our share of the resources.”

A chill ran down Reyes’ spine at these words. _She wants to go back to the Nexus? With the krogan? That only means one thing…_

It seemed that he wasn’t the only one to share concerns. Kaetus spoke again, and his tone was slightly pleading. “Do the krogan have to get involved? If we make this settlement strong, then surely the Nexus leadership will be willing to invest resources in making it stronger. They’ll need somewhere to put the sleepers on the Nexus. We’ll be in a position of power to bargain with them.”

“Kaetus, how many fucking times do I have to tell you? As long as Tann is running the Initiative, I will _not_ work with them. Their people can burn in the Scourge for all I care. They can give us the resources we’re due, or they can get a taste of what they unleashed on us. Morda will agree to that, I’m sure.” There was brief silence, then a soft, rhythmic sound that sounded almost like… purring? _I don’t think I want to know,_ Reyes thought.

Then Sloane’s voice again. “Happy now?” She chuckled, then her voice decreased in volume, presumably as she walked away from Kaetus. “I appreciate the concern, Kaetus. Really. But I’m not changing my mind. Understood?”

Kaetus sighed quietly. “Ma’am,” he confirmed. Then Sloane spoke again. “Do we have anything to worry about with Nakamoto? I heard he’s back in the slums. Will he be a problem?”

“I don’t think so. He has no combat training; he didn’t even try to defend himself when our people removed him from the lab.”

“Good. I hate to take the hard line, but we need the credits. The Oblivion’s still selling well?”

“Yes. I’ve gotten reports that sales are through the roof, actually.” 

There was a moment of silence, then Sloane spoke again. “Reduce the supply. We need to keep the demand high in order to maintain a steady flow of credits.” 

“Will do.” Then there was the sound of a door sliding open, and the noise of the marketplace as Kaetus presumably left the Outcast HQ.

Reyes tapped his omni-tool, returning the translator to its regular settings as he walked up the stairs to the upper level of Tartarus. _Jesus Christ,_ he thought worriedly. The situation was actually worse than he thought. Not only was Sloane behind the Oblivion trade, but she was ultimately planning to go to war against the Nexus… because that was the only possible outcome if she went to the Nexus demanding resources. _There’s no way Tann will give her anything._

He strode into his ‘office’, and the second the door’s lock engaged behind him, he called Keema. “We need to talk,” he said without preamble when she picked up. “Your place, tonight. I’ll ping you when I arrive.” He gave her enough time to confirm, then hung up. 

Reyes couldn’t sit by passively anymore. Sloane couldn’t be reasoned with - not from Reyes, and not from her own 2IC. There was no choice but to take her out before she brought war to Heleus. 

Reyes sat on the couch and poured himself a small measure of whiskey from the ever-present bottle on the table. He took a sip, then sat back and concentrated on his breathing. _In, two, three, four… Out, two, three, four._

As he sat on the couch, staring into the middle distance, his breathing deep and calm, he felt a familiar darkness flex and stretch inside his mind. He hadn’t had to rely on this part of himself for a long time, not since Omega, but he would need it now. 

Reyes had a purpose… and he had to do whatever it took to fulfill it. But he would need Keema’s full, unequivocal cooperation to make it work.

He hoped she was willing to accept the consequences.

********************

Keema’s omni-tool pinged, and she swiftly disengaged the lock to let Reyes in. And the first thing she noticed was that he looked… different. 

She stared at him uncertainly. Nothing was actually different, obviously; but something about him was making her feel on edge somehow. He stalked into her apartment and looked at her… then Keema realized what was different. His face was totally devoid of its usual warmth. His bronze eyes, usually dancing with laughter, were cold as marbles. His normal cheeky grin was gone. Instead, his face was cold and expressionless. 

When he spoke, even his voice sounded different: cold and businesslike. He paced around her apartment like a caged challyrion. “You were right. Sloane can’t remain in power. She has to be removed or she’ll bring a second wave of destruction.” 

Keema gaped at him. For months, this was everything she’d hoped for, but she was reeling from the suddenness of his about-face. “What… what in the stars _happened_? What did you find out?”

“Everything you thought is true. She won’t work with the angara. She’s controlling the Oblivion trade. And she’ll attack the Nexus at the first opportunity. It’s insane.” He stopped pacing and looked her full in the face. “You were right, Keema. Things should not have gotten to this point before I decided to do something.” 

Keema let out a huge breath. “Reyes. This is… thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. I-”

He interrupted her abruptly, holding up a hand to silence her. She snapped her mouth shut in surprise at the authoritative gesture. “You’ve been asking me to get involved for months. But you don’t know what you’ve really been asking. Keema….” He trailed off and rubbed a hand over his mouth, and for a brief moment, he was her _olaon_ Reyes, her little brother. 

Then he looked at her again, and his gaze was cold. “We have to do everything it takes to get rid of Sloane. Do you understand?”

Keema frowned at him in confusion. “Yes, of course. I’ve been asking _you_ for this for months. I’m the one who’s wanted her out of power all this time!” 

Reyes looked closely at her, and the intensity of his gaze made a chill run down her spine. Finally he spoke again. “I want you to meet me at a cave in Draullir tomorrow night. I’ll send you a time and precise location. You will meet me there if you want to move forward with this. Yes?”

Keema frowned more deeply. Why was he being so… bossy? “What’s the matter with you? You don’t seem like yourself,” she finally said. 

Reyes didn’t even blink. “Will you meet me tomorrow?” he said flatly. 

Keema stared at him, starting to feel a little bit angry and… scared. How could he be like this? So emotionless? It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before. 

They stared at each other for a few long seconds, then Keema finally dropped her eyes. “Yes, I’ll meet you. Why-?” 

“Good. I have to go. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” He strode towards the door, but then hesitated and turned back to Keema. “You know me better than anyone in this galaxy. Don’t forget that,” he said. Then he was gone. 

Keema just stood in the middle of her apartment, staring in confusion at the door. Who was the Reyes that she had just spoken to? 

And why did Keema get the faint feeling she had bitten off more than she could chew?


	9. Collective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema sees a side of Reyes she was _not_ expecting.
> 
> TW: Torture and murder.

Keema stepped cautiously into the mouth of the cave that Reyes had sent to her omni-tool. She suppressed a shiver as she peered into the gloom; the caves made her skin crawl. She’d been raised on rumours and scary stories about the Death Caves of Draullir; even if they weren’t true (and who knew, really?), ingrained childhood fears were difficult to ignore. 

Keema’s first urge was to call out for Reyes, but she held back; she didn’t know what to expect from this meeting, and Reyes had been so _weird_ last night that Keema was on her guard. Her hand hovered over her thigh sheath as she allowed her eyes to get accustomed to the darkness. 

Suddenly, a movement from the corner of her left eye. She whipped the dagger from her sheath and held it to the throat of an unfamiliar human man who’d melted out of the shadows. The man seemed unfazed by her dagger as he held an assault rifle to her abdomen. A cold sweat broke out on Keema’s back. 

“Name?” the man said. 

Keema swallowed. “Keema. Keema Dohrgun. Who are _you?_ ” she replied defiantly. She fought to keep her hand steady as she held the dagger to his throat. 

The man nodded once, then sheathed his assault rifle on his back. “Reyes is waiting,” he said, then jerked his chin towards the tunnel. 

Keema licked her lips nervously, then lowered her dagger. She walked along the tunnel that the man had indicated, her heart thumping in her ears and her skin crawling from the nearness of the strange human man following her with his guns.

Keema kept walking for five minutes, maybe ten; she wasn’t sure. Eventually her trepidation faded into impatient curiosity, and the man behind her stopped feeling like a threat. By the time the tunnel widened into a large cavern, she was almost calm. 

Then she saw Reyes. He was accompanied by a human woman and a salarian. And then she saw the unconscious female turian at their feet, slumped with her back against a boulder.

Keema stopped abruptly, and the man behind her almost walked into her. Reyes turned at the sound of their approach. “Good, you’re here,” he said coolly, his face as neutral as it was yesterday. 

“Reyes?” Keema said, and her voice sounded strangled to her own ears. “What is this?” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the turian. Her hands and feet were tied, and the human woman had a pistol trained on her. 

Reyes took a slow step towards Keema. “This is what we’ll need to do to get rid of Sloane,” he replied, his voice was infinitely gentle… a stark contrast with the frigidity of his facial expression. 

Keema instinctively stepped back from Reyes and ran into the human man who’d accompanied her into the cave. “Will you get away from me, please?” she snapped at the man, and he looked surprised for a moment, then raised his eyebrows questioningly at Reyes. Reyes gave a tiny nod, and the man stepped away from Keema to join his compatriots. 

Keema glared at Reyes, her chest heaving with anger and not a little fear. “Who are these people, Reyes? Would you care to explain what the _skkut_ is going on here?”

Reyes nodded, then pointed to each of his companions. “This is Robert. That’s Lyza, and this is Octans.” Reyes’ companions each nodded respectfully to Keema, and the woman gave a tiny salute with two fingers. Then Reyes turned to face Keema again. “They’re my crew. We came to Kadara together.”

Keema planted her hands on her hips. She was dearly hoping that bravado and bluster would make her seem more brave than she really felt. “And what does that make you? The gang boss? Because that’s what you’re acting like,” she said waspishly.

Reyes tilted his head slightly and stared at her without answering. Keema dropped her arms to her sides. “Oh stars. You _are_ a gang boss. That’s how you have access to so many resources, isn’t it? How you’re so well-connected.” A sudden hysterical laugh burst from her lips. _I’ve been so stupid,_ she thought. All this time, she figured he was just a really good smuggler, but in truth he was a crimelord…

Reyes shook his head, and when he spoke, it was as though he’d read her mind. “Actually, that’s all just my smuggling skills. I’m really that good. _And_ charming.” He smiled at her, and suddenly he was her little brother again. Keema felt pang of relief pierce her anxiety at the familiarity of his grin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Octans smirk at Lyza, who gave a tiny smile in response. 

Keema’s shoulders relaxed a bit more at these signs of humour. But then Reyes’ smile faded back into seriousness. “But I meant it when I said I was willing to do everything it takes to get Sloane out of power. So are they.” He waved his hand to his crew, who gazed back at her, quiet and self-contained. “Are you?” 

Keema’s eyes slid back to the unconscious turian. She was starting to stir feebly, her head dropping forward and her hands twisting slightly against the ropes. Keema licked her lips as a sick feeling of dread washed over her again. “What do you mean?” she whispered. 

Reyes took another slow step towards her, then gestured to the turian. “This is one of Sloane’s Outcasts. She was responsible for removing Dr. Ryota Nakamoto from the Oblivion lab and beating him senseless. She has also been tasked with forcibly removing angaran families from the Port when they couldn’t pay their fees.”

Keema’s eyes flew back to the captive. She was continuing to wake, her eyes opening sluggishly, a moan of distress eking its way out of her throat. “What… why is she here?” Keema asked, her voice shaking, uncertain whether she wanted confirmation of these horrible circumstances. 

Reyes raised his chin slightly, his eyes on her face. “I’m going to interrogate her. Then I’m going to kill her. And we’re going to make her disappear. Sloane will never know what happened to her.” 

Keema stared at him, feeling as though the breath had been slammed from her chest. She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find the words to express what she was feeling. Shock was utmost in her mind; shock that Reyes, her _oloan_ , who gave her shelter and bought her a translator and made her adhi sandwiches when she was drunk, was _saying_ these horrible things like they were no big deal. 

Finally she found her words. “You’ve done this before,” she accused hoarsely. It wasn’t a question, but Reyes nodded confirmation anyway. Keema looked at Robert, then Lyza, then Octans, all standing as still as statues, their eyes on her face except for Lyza, who was keeping watch on the captive Outcast. 

The captive Outcast, who had beaten a doctor for trying to do the right thing; who had thrown families out of the port… and who now looked scared as her eyes darted around the room, trying to find her bearings. She was just a _person_. She wasn’t a cruel monster. _How can Reyes be thinking of torturing her? She’s helpless and scared._

Keema’s gaze fell back on Reyes. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered, and a tear trickled down her face. 

“Sloane is a criminal. She’s playing dirty to keep your people under her control. You know this better than any of us. We have to fight fire with fire, and this is the fastest, most effective way to get rid of her.” Reyes took one more step closer to her and gently took hold of her arm. “Remember the bigger picture, Keema. You showed me that. Kadara needs to be a free port, unfettered by tyranny, no matter the cost. I can make that happen. But you need to be my partner in this.” 

Keema glared at him, more tears spilling from her eyes. “You want me to sanction this, don’t you? You want me to say this is okay.” 

Reyes continued to look at her, his intense bronze gaze boring into her. “When you asked for my help, you didn’t know what you were asking. Now you do.” He released her arm and gestured again to the turian. “This is the price we pay. This is how we stop the Oblivion trade, and the protection fees, and the evictions, and the deaths in the badlands. _This_ is the price.” 

At this point the turian spoke, her voice sluggish-sounding, like she was still dazed. “Hey. Hey, what’s going on? Let me go. Let me _go!_ ”

Keema covered her face with her hands. _This is unbelievable. This is like a nightmare,_ she thought hysterically. But suddenly Reyes’ hands were on her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. 

“Keema, you need be hard. You’ve lived through worse than this. We can stop anyone else from suffering what you have. But you _have_ to focus on the bigger picture.” His voice was firm and authoritative, and Keema looked up at him, unable to resist the authority of his voice. Then Reyes spoke again. “You _have_ to stay strong and clear.” 

Keema gazed at him in amazement. _Stay strong and clear._ It was the Resistance’s most common greeting and informal motto, a constant reminder to maintain focus, to remain hopeful, to do what needed to be done… and it was the last thing her father had said to her, before her family had left the port. 

There was no way Reyes could have known; she hadn’t told him that. _How does Reyes know that phrase? Maybe from Evfra…?_

But his words, and the memory of her father’s haggard but determined face, raised a sudden determination in her. _Stay strong and clear._

Keema took a deep breath and wiped her face, then nodded to Reyes. “Alright. Do what you need to do,” she said, and she was surprised by the strength of her own voice. 

Reyes smiled at her, his eyes sparkling briefly with pride. Then he gestured for her to follow as he briskly strode over to the prisoner. “You’ll remain here for this interrogation,” he told Keema, his voice and face brisk and businesslike again. “I won’t make you watch again if this is too much for you, but I need you to truly understand what this will involve. Just stand back with Octans; breathe deeply.”

“And stay strong and clear,” Keema added, talking more to herself than to him. Reyes nodded briefly, then crouched down to the turian captive’s level. He grabbed her chin, forcing her attention to him.

“Hey!” the turian squawked, writhing against her ropes and trying to pull her face away. 

Reyes yanked hard on her face. “Look at me,” he barked, and Keema jumped slightly, startled by the icy hardness of his voice. The turian stopped struggling and stared at him fearfully.

“Who runs the Oblivion lab out at Varren’s Scalp?” Reyes asked in a conversational tone. 

The turian scowled at him. “Who the fuck are you?”

Reyes smiled… and a chill ran down Keema’s spine at his reptilian grin. “Reyes Vidal. Now answer my question.”

The Outcast’s eyes widened. “The smuggler? What the fuck do you care about the- _aaaaaaargh!_ ” The turian suddenly screamed as Reyes abruptly took hold of her mandibles and started forcefully prying them apart. The bottom dropped out of Keema’s stomach at the captive’s screech of pain. 

Reyes released the turian’s mandibles and she gasped in panic. Then she gasped for breath as Reyes wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed.

“Answer my question. Who runs the Oblivion lab?” he asked, his voice so cold and _bored-sounding_ that Keema could hardly believe it was Reyes speaking. He held the turian’s throat for a moment longer, then released her so she could speak. 

She panted heavily, then finally gasped out, “I don’t know. _I don’t know!_ ” she squawked, as Reyes stood and peered down at her threateningly. “I was just told to grab the doctor. The two techs who work there now are Outcasts. A human and an asari. I don’t know their names.” 

Reyes pursed his lips in annoyance. “What else can you tell me about the lab?”

“ _Nothing,_ okay? Blasted spirits. I just did what Kaetus told me.” 

Reyes gave a disappointed sigh. “Fine.” Then he pulled the handcrafted Sidewinder from his right hip and shot her twice in the head. 

Keema turned away in horror and covered her face, her stomach roiling as the gunshot echoed hauntingly through the cave, followed by the dull thud of the dead turian’s head hitting the ground. _Stay strong and clear,_ she thought, then took a few deep breaths and forced herself to look at the turian. 

Her eyes were open, and her head was splayed back awkwardly on the bounder behind her. _This is the price we pay,_ Keema told herself, trying to make herself believe it. She forced herself to think of Taliin, throwing his head back in laughter; of Raana, making some smart-alecky remark; of her father, laughing so loudly that her ears rang, showing Keema how to twirl her dagger. The knot of grief in her chest heated with the slow return of anger, helping to burn away the sick feeling in her stomach.

Keema finally raised her eyes to find Reyes watching her, an expression of quiet approval on his face. He gave her a tiny nod and a smile, then holstered his Sidewinder and gestured for the crew to follow him away from the dead turian. 

“Our main priority is recruiting,” he said briskly. “Sloane has a large group, and they’re expanding. We need similar numbers before we can consider challenging her in any direct way.” 

“Will you rally people directly? You’re well-liked in the Port. You could draw people to our group quite easily,” Lyza said. 

“No,” Reyes said sharply. “We continue as we have done. I’ll remain in the background. Nobody aside from the five of us, and Kian Dagher, finds out who is running things. Not without my explicit permission.” Lyza, Robert and Octans nodded sharply, but Keema frowned slightly. 

“People like for their leaders to have a familiar face,” she reasoned. “They may not trust your motives if they don’t know who’s behind the orders.” 

Reyes turned to her, his face composed and unyielding. “No. I refuse to be a figurehead. The actions of this organization will speak for themselves. Anyone who wants to work with us will accept that.” 

Keema tilted her head to the side consideringly. Maybe he had a point. If people wanted to join Reyes’ group, they would be choosing his group based on their motives and actions, not on the popularity of their leader. Finally Keema nodded. 

Reyes turned back to his crew. “Octans, Lyza, Robert: you’ll continue disseminating my orders. Our current agents know who you are already, so let them think it’s a collective leadership. It will throw them off my scent. Unless I call you through our encrypted channel or specifically tell you otherwise, I am no more to you than Reyes the smuggler. Is that understood?” 

They all nodded again, then Octans spoke up. “Maybe that’s what we should call ourselves. The Collective. It sounds inclusive. It could bring more people over to our side.” 

Reyes raised his eyebrows in consideration, then nodded briskly. “That’s a good idea. Done.” Then he smiled faintly at them all, including Keema. “Congratulations. Consider yourselves the founding members of the Collective.” 

Octans smiled and patted Lyza’s and Robert’s shoulders. Lyza smiled at Reyes and Keema, and even the stone-faced Robert grunted approval. Then Reyes turned to Keema. “Keema, you will never have to do what you saw here tonight, but you will have to delegate orders for these kinds of acts. Understood?”

Keema met his eyes bravely. _Stay strong and clear._ “Understood,” she said, and Reyes nodded briskly. “Robert, get rid of the body. Cut it up, split the remains between Sulfur Springs and that fiend’s cave down at Spirit’s Ledge. Lyza, business as usual. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Octans, wait here.” Then he led Keema a short ways away from the others.

“Keema, I meant it when I said I need you to be my partner. You’ll need to come to my apartment tomorrow night to talk through the rest of our plans. Yes?” 

Keema nodded. “Alright.” 

Reyes smiled briefly, a distracted smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Octans will take you back to the slums. I’ll message you a time to meet tomorrow.” He started to turn away, but on impulse, Keema reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Reyes,” she said, and Reyes tilted his head questioningly, a trace of impatience on his face. 

“How… how do you know to do all this? The… the interrogation. And the planning. You... really were a crime lord, weren’t you?” Keema asked quietly. 

Reyes’ shoulders tensed slightly. “No,” he said firmly. “But I learned from one.” Then he jerked his head at Octans. “Go home, Keema. We’ll be in touch tomorrow.” 

Then he hesitated, his eyes on hers, and said, “You did well tonight.” He held out his arm to her in a gesture of friendship. 

Keema examined his face searchingly. Reyes still looked cold, but his eyebrows were pulled up a bit. He seemed… sad. Despite how hard and focused he was, he didn’t seem to want this… and that thought was a comfort to her. She raised her arm and tapped it against his. “Stay strong and clear,” she said, then smiled at him.

Reyes smiled back - the first true, warm smile she’d seen all night. Then he strode through the cavern into the darkness and disappeared. 

Octans approached Keema. “Ready to go?” he asked politely. Keema nodded and followed him through the cavern… past the bloodstain at the base of the boulder where the turian had fallen. 

A jolt of nausea tugged at her stomach, and she folded her arms as goosebumps rippled over her skin. Was she really okay with this? Her mind was still struggling to reconcile Reyes, her generous and funny little brother, with this… dark and violent man. Except… 

_He did show a hint of this when I first met him._ He had told her he would kill her if she ever threatened him again. Another chill rippled over her arms at the thought. 

“Just remember what he said,” Octans said suddenly, breaking Keema from her thoughts. She looked at him quizzically. “Focus on the long-term goal,” he clarified. “I’ve worked for Reyes long enough to know he really gets results.” 

Keema bit her lip. “Thank you,” she said. He nodded back, and they continued towards the shuttle. 

Tonight had changed her path, for better or worse. There was no turning back now. After tonight, there was no doubt in Keema’s mind: Sloane Kelly would be removed from power. 

At any cost.


	10. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema gets mad, then calms down and negotiates like a badass bitch. (Love her!!!)

Reyes sat at his kitchen counter monitoring reports from Lyza and Octans. In a single day, Lyza had found two new potential recruits for him to vet. Reyes was also confident that Keema’s connections, as well as her poised charm, would win many locals to their side as well. 

Reyes felt a tiny jolt of nerves as he thought of Keema. He was expecting her any minute now to discuss her role in Sloane’s takedown and in his organization. He’d been impressed and proud of how she’d mastered her emotions in Draullir yesterday, and she had agreed to work with him with only mild hesitation, but a small part of his mind couldn’t help that worry that she’d change her mind. It was partly why he’d given her a night on her own to think; he needed her to be sure. And if she had any misgivings, if she was thinking of changing her mind, he needed to know right away.

_And if she does change her mind?_ The cold, calculating part of his mind piped up. _if she decides she doesn't want anything to do with you? What will you do then?_

Reyes ran a hand through his hair at the thought. If Keema decided she _didn’t_ want to work with him and couldn’t do things his way, there was only one logical course of action… But Reyes had decided to take the risk, trusting that he knew Keema well enough to predict her actions. 

And yet, he still wasn’t able to predict what she did when she arrived. 

His omi-tool pinged, and he opened the electronic lock and deadbolts to let her in. “Keema,” he greeted her, with his usual affable nod. 

Her face, in contrast, was… not very friendly-looking. She usually sauntered into his apartment with a grin and made herself comfortable like she owned the place, but today she stepped inside slowly, reminding him of the first day they’d met. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. 

Reyes raised his eyebrows at her, though his stomach dropped with trepidation at the look on her face. “Is there a problem?” he asked. 

Keema pursed her lips. “I have two things I want to talk about with you. First of all,” and then she punched him in the stomach.

Reyes grunted more out of surprise than pain as Keema yelled, “How could you spring all of this on me like that? All this time we've sat here drinking wine-” 

“And whiskey,” added Reyes in an attempt to break her temper, but Keema glared at him. “All the conversations we’ve had, and you didn't tell me this? You're my best friend. You know everything about me. But you didn't tell me _this_? What is _wrong_ with you?”

Reyes sighed, her words ringing in his ears: _You’re my best friend._ A pang of guilt pinched his chest, but he couldn’t help but feel grateful if this was why she was mad: not because he was a murderer, not because he was a criminal, but because he didn’t tell her the truth. 

Reyes rubbed a hand over his face. “Keema… I didn’t grow up like you, okay? I didn’t have the parents and the siblings and… that fuzzy stuff. I didn’t leave the Milky Way under the best circumstances and I don’t like talking about it, you know?”

“No,” snapped Keema. “No, in fact, I don’t know. _That’s the point._ I don’t know anything about where you came from, or… or what you did before you got here, or-”

Reyes held up a hand to cut her off. He was starting to feel angry at her persistence. “Keema. Stop. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“ _How?_ ” Keema cried, and tears began spilling down her face. “How can you _not_ want to talk about these things? They’re important! Your past makes you who you are. How can you expect me to trust your intentions if I don’t even know who you are?” 

Reyes sighed heavily. _This is why I don’t have friends. They try to pick at scars that are better left alone,_ he thought in resignation. But he stepped forward and placed his hands on Keema’s shoulders, then rested his forehead against hers. 

She sobbed at the intimate gesture of family. In a quiet but firm voice, Reyes said, “You _do_ know me. You don’t need to know all the dirty details to know who I am. I want my actions now to say more than whatever I… might have done in the past. You need to accept this. Okay?”

Keema sobbed again, then finally rested her hands on his shoulders and nodded her head, unable to speak. 

Reyes finally felt able to smile. He lifted his head and chucked her fondly on the chin. “Now calm down and pour yourself a glass of wine, will you? You look like hell.” He walked over to the bathroom to bring her some tissue.

Keema scoffed, and the sound was exactly between a laugh and a sob. “Wow, Reyes. Such a sweet talker. No wonder you haven’t slept with anyone on this planet.” 

Reyes burst out laughing as he handed her a box of tissue, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit his laughter was partly out of sheer relief that she didn’t hate him. 

Keema took the box of tissues and punched him lightly in the arm. “What kind of person tells a woman to calm down? That’s _never_ a good thing to say.” 

He smirked. “It worked, didn’t it? You’re not crying anymore.” 

Keema scoffed again and gave him a mock-reproachful look as she sat at the kitchenette counter and dabbed her eyes. “You’re disgusting. I hope you’re not this insensitive with your girlfriends.” 

Reyes chuckled and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Don’t know. I never really had a _girlfriend_ -girlfriend.” 

Keema brightened so suddenly it was as though he’d flipped a switch in her brain. Her eyes widened and she straightened up suddenly, reminding him of a sunflower reaching for the sun. He could practically see the speech bubble floating over her head that said _GOSSIP!!!_

She opened her mouth, and Reyes held up both hands. “No!” he said loudly. “No, no, no, I won’t talk about this right now. We have business to discuss!” 

“Ohhh, Reyes, come on! This is so juicy!” She looked at him pleadingly, and he stared her down forbiddingly until finally she sighed. “Fine, fine. At least we have material for our next whiskey-and-wine night.” 

Reyes relaxed back in his chair. “Uh-huh. So, to business. I-”

Now it was Keema’s turn to hold up her hand. Reyes stopped, surprised by the sudden change in her demeanour. Her gaze was confident and poised; she looked like the consummate professional, even with her face puffy from crying. 

“That was the second thing I wanted to talk about,” she said. “I agreed to be your partner in taking Sloane down. But I’ll only help you on one condition: _I_ replace Sloane when she’s removed from power. Kadara Port was an angaran port before you came. I want us to collaborate, since you and I have proven that our people can all work together. But the angara should be the primary representatives of the port.” Then she frowned at him. “Why are you smiling?”

Reyes shook his head, unable to hide his grin. “You just read my mind, that’s all. I was going to suggest that you take her place. You’re unquestionably qualified; you were a Director before we got here, and you know how best to make daily operations in the port run smoothly.” Reyes leaned forward, his face serious. “But I will remain in charge of security and safety in the port; that only makes sense given my… skill set. And I want all major decisions regarding supply lines and business in the port to be run past me first.” 

Keema narrowed her eyes at him, her face calculating. “Yes to the security issues. Supply lines… that makes sense. You are an excellent ‘procurement specialist’, after all. But I can’t let you veto business issues. We make business and trade-related decisions together.” 

Reyes eyed her sternly, but he had to fight the smile of pride and respect that was threatening to cross his face. On the one hand, he was _not_ accustomed to having someone challenge him; he’d had more than enough of being bossed around on Omega, and none of his employees had ever questioned him since he’d set foot on this planet. On the other hand, he was delighted to see Keema’s poised, confident, directorial side emerging. He was incredibly fond of Keema-the-best-friend, but he needed Keema-the-director to be his partner. And here she was, making demands and suggestions. 

Finally Reyes sat back and crossed his arms. “Fine. It’s a deal.” 

Keema grinned at him and sat back, crossing her legs elegantly. “Well! I think we should toast, don’t you? Hit our cups together for no good reason and say ‘cheers’?”

Reyes chuckled. “If you want a drink, just say so.” He stood and retrieved a half-finished bottle of Keema’s favourite Ayan red from the cupboard. As he poured a cup of wine for her, he said, “Now, I wanted to talk about our long-term plans for getting rid of Sloane.”

Her smile faded and she nodded, her face serious and focused. “What do you have in mind?”

Reyes handed over the wine. “What we need is someone on the inside, someone to infiltrate Sloane’s headquarters. I want it to be you.”

Keema spluttered on a mouthful of wine. “Me?” she demanded. “But I hate Sloane. How is that a good idea?”

Reyes sat facing her at the counter. “I know Sloane’s history on the Nexus. She’s focused on maintaining security for her people, but she’s… sympathetic as well.” 

Keema gave such a loud dismissive snort that Reyes was surprised her entire cup of wine didn’t disappear up her nose. He frowned at her. “I understand why you hate Sloane, but she was different on the Nexus. Now, she’s… well, she’s blinded by her hatred of Tann. But she changed sides during the rebellion on the Nexus because of that sympathy. She might be… unreasonable, but she’ll want to make a token effort to at least act like she’s considering the population’s perspective.”

“You said she flat-out refused to work with my people,” Keema replied flatly, her voice dripping skepticism. “She won’t let any angara join her little group. What makes you think she would agree to let me work with her?”

“You have skills that the average angara doesn’t have. You’re well-connected among the locals. You speak Milky Way Standard with almost perfect fluency. You’re charming and well-spoken. You’re the perfect token.”

Keema had preened slightly as Reyes recited her qualities, then deflated at the word ‘token’. Reyes couldn’t help but smile, but continued. “You’ll approach Kaetus, her second-in-command, and propose to him that you could advise Sloane, help her keep control of the population. He’s reasonable, and he’s got the best chance of anyone for getting through to her.”

Keema pursed her lips with displeasure, but Reyes could tell from the faraway look on her face that she was thinking. Finally, she sighed and nodded. “Fine. _Fine_ , I’ll do it. I see the rationale. It does make sense,” she said grudgingly. 

Reyes nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. I have an idea for softening Sloane and Kaetus up, making them vulnerable so your proposition will be more appealing to them.” 

Keema suddenly reached out and rested her hand on Reyes’ forearm. “Reyes,” she said, and her face was dead serious. 

Reyes frowned. “What is it?”

Keema bit her lip, then quietly she asked, “Are you going to kill Sloane?”

Reyes gazed steadily back at her. In his opinion, there was no other way to ensure that a threat would be completely neutralized. On Omega, before joining the Initiative, he’d been soft; his emotions had obscured his judgment, and the mistake had kept him on Omega for months longer than necessary. 

Reyes wouldn’t make that mistake again, whether Keema liked it or not. “Yes,” he said baldly. “I will kill her.”

Keema lowered her eyes for a moment. Then she lifted her gaze to Reyes’ face, and her aqua-coloured eyes blazed with rage… and vengeance. “Good.”


	11. Interlude: Whiskey and Wine III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reyes teaches Keema a bad habit... and shares some information about his life. 
> 
> A/N: I know it's canon that Reyes is from Chile, but I found that out after I'd already headcannoned that he's from Barcelona. Just FYI!

“Humans certainly have weird ways of celebrating things.” 

Reyes smirked at Keema. “In this case, you’re right. This really is a stupid way to celebrate. And it’s unhealthy. But it’s a special occasion, okay? Just roll with it. Try something new.” 

He puffed lightly at the cigar, making the embers at the snipped end glow orange, then turned his head and blew the smoke away from Keema. He handed her the cigar. “So what you should do is take a tiny sip of wine, then hold it on your tongue and puff the cigar. It makes for a... sweet and smoky combination, I guess.” 

Keema pursed her lips skeptically but took the cigar from him. She sipped her wine, then puffed the cigar… and her face slowly transformed from _I’m-just-humouring-you_ to _This-is-incredible_. She looked at him, her eyes wide and her lips curling up in a smile as she swallowed the wine. “This is _lovely_! I’ve never tasted anything like this before. But how did humans discover that sucking on a burning stick would make their wine taste even better?”

Reyes snorted a laugh. Of course an alien would see it that way. “It’s not a stick, it’s a cigar. It’s like a bundle of a kind of leaf called tobacco.” 

“Fine. How did humans discover that sucking on a bundle of burning leaves would make their wine taste even better?” She smirked at him and took a second sip and puff.

_How do I even start to explain this?_ Reyes thought with fond exasperation. _She has a point._ Furthermore, aside from having the odd cigarette or joint in order to appear social, Reyes wasn’t a smoker. As a result, he couldn't really explain the appeal of smoking, since he didn’t understand it. But cigars were an even more valuable commodity in Andromeda than they had been in the Milky Way, given that they were now extremely rare. He didn’t have anything else of value in his apartment, and he’d thought that Keema deserved something special to celebrate their partnership, so cigars and wine it was. 

“Technically you’re supposed to pair the cigar with this type of extra-strong wine called port. But-”

“An extra-strong wine called _port_? Reyes. You must get me some. Clearly it was made for me. I’m a wine connoisseur, and I’ll soon be the boss of the port.” She gave him a saucy smile. 

Reyes gave her an exasperated look. She was currently on her third glass of wine, and it was starting to show. Reyes had freely poured wine for her, figuring that it was the least he owed her for putting up with his darker side. But he felt a small pang of guilt at the thought that she might be using the alcohol to cope with the stress of the past few days. _I hope I haven’t given her any bad habits…_

Speaking of bad habits, she had already puffed her way through half of the cigar. Reyes reached over to take it from her, but she pulled it away and scowled at him. 

“Excuse me! Get your own!” She took another pull, then elegantly turned her head away from him and blew the smoke in a smooth cloud, looking uncannily like some kind of Terran film vixen from the 1920s. 

Reyes ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Keema. I’ve created a monster.” She turned back to face him, took a tiny puff, then blew the smoke in his face and finished off by mockingly blowing him a kiss.

Reyes coughed, waving the smoke away from his face, then plopped down on the couch across from her seat at the kitchenette counter. “You’d have gotten along well with my mother. She loved her cigars.”

Keema suddenly went still and stared at him, a cautious look on her face. Reyes couldn’t quite meet her eye as he lifted his whiskey cup from the coffee table and took a fortifying gulp. This was the first time he’d ever willingly mentioned his family… and if he mentioned his family to Keema, there was only one possible outcome: being hounded by her until the whole story came out. 

Reyes knew this. And he’d said it anyway. 

Keema rose from her stool and sat next to him. “What was she like?” Keema asked, her voice gentle. 

Reyes let his head fall back on the couch and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do this, but now that he’d started… “She was an architect. She liked two things: architecture and cigars.” 

“And your father?” Reyes could feel the couch cushions shifting as Keema settled down beside him. 

“Oh, I’m sure my mother liked him at some point. But not that I could remember.” He sat forward and took sipped his scotch.

Keema smiled gently, but the corners of her eyes were creased with sadness. “No, I meant what was _he_ like. Was he an architect as well?”

“No, he was an artist. A painter. Sculptor, too, but mostly a painter. They were successful, celebrated in Barcelona. Well, in Catalunya in general.” He let his head fall back again, remembering his parents’ passions: his mother’s old-fashioned drawing table with her hand-drawn blueprints; his father’s studio, littered with canvases and haphazardly sprinkled with paint splatters and clay-stained sculptor’s tools. His parents had both disdained modern methods such as digital modeling/sculpting and 3D-printing, and they’d been major proponents of a traditionalist/revivalist movement for art and architecture in Catalunya. “They loved their professions. They didn’t have any space left to love anything else.” _Including me._

His unspoken thought was heavily implied in his words, and Keema impulsively reached over and squeezed his hand. “And I know you didn’t have any siblings…” she said hesitantly. 

Reyes nodded, then turned his head to look at her. “I was an accident,” he said baldly. “They never wanted kids. Which _she_ never hesitated to remind me whenever I got in trouble at school.” He gave a humourless laugh, then abruptly sat forward and downed the rest of his drink. He rose from the couch and strode to the kitchenette for a refill. 

He spoke to Keema over his shoulder as he poured his whiskey. “I always wondered why they didn’t just get an abortion. I never asked.” He didn’t mention that as an angsty teenager, he’d sometimes wished they had. 

He heard the soft scraping of the kitchenette counter stool as Keema seated herself. He was grateful that she was giving him space. After a minute of comfortable silence, during which Reyes sipped his whiskey and eventually turned to face her, Keema spoke again, her voice soft and curious. “What was it like growing up in… Catalunya, you said?”

“Yeah. Barcelona, specifically. It’s a city in Spain… err, that’s just a country on Earth. The original planet that humanity came from,” Reyes hastily explained in response to Keema’s polite confusion. “It was a great city. Renowned for its architecture even before my mother’s success. A lot of asari tourists. And quite a few drell, weirdly enough. I got to see quite a few aliens even when I was a kid.”

“Did you have a lot of friends as a child? I bet you were the most popular boy in class,” Keema said with a fond smile. “I can just imagine a charming little Reyes, flirting with all the little girls, the shining star in all the teacher’s skies.”

Reyes gave a huge laugh that was laced with bitterness. “Absolutely not. I didn’t make friends well.” He gave her a penetrating look for a moment, then turned back to face the sink. He sipped his whiskey, then spoke over his shoulder again. “My parents were wealthy, but they put me in a public school in a… relatively lower-income area. Nothing against public schools per se; it was a fine school, I guess. But the other kids…” 

Reyes paused and took a few measured breaths to push down the anger and hurt that always roiled whenever he thought about his childhood. When he turned to face Keema again, his face utterly neutral, his voice cool and detached. “I was small for my age. Small kid, wealthy parents… I got beat up a lot. My shit was always getting stolen. That always annoyed my parents; they hated taking time away from work to replace my things.” 

He didn’t bother to go into the details: some of his baby teeth being knocked out instead of falling out naturally; the bruises on arms and torso, hiding his limping when he got home so his parents wouldn’t scold him; the daily anticipatory terror as he walked to school, and how it was almost a relief when the daily assault came and could get on with his day.

Keema’s whole face was crumpled with distress, and she unconsciously leaned over the kitchenette counter towards him. He could tell she was practically aching to hug him, but was showing restraint, for which he was grateful. This was much easier to talk about in a matter-of-fact manner. 

“How… when did the bullying stop?” she asked. 

Reyes shrugged with studied casualness and sipped his whiskey. “I made myself invisible. I wore the same clothes for days in a row so they looked dirty, made myself stand out less. I became quiet in class, sat at the back, slunk around in the shadows at recess instead of running around with the other kids. I still got bullied, but it became… less.” He gave a rueful little laugh. “I was a shady little bastard even then.” 

Keema smiled at him. He started feeling safe enough to come and sit with her at the kitchenette counter. He grabbed the bottle of wine and replenished her cup as he sat. “As I got older, I started to get sick of putting up with the bullying. So… I started collecting information.”

Keema gave an incredulous little laugh. “You did _what_? You collected information as a _child?_ ”

Reyes laughed as well and nodded. “I don’t even really remember how I started doing it. But if you creep around in the shadows long enough, looking boring and inconspicuous… eventually the conversations around you become more and more interesting. Kids would tell secrets, they’d gossip.” He smiled at Keema, but his eyes were flat and cold as marbles. “When I found out something… juicy, I’d use it to blackmail the bullies. Then I started stealing their things quietly. Forced them to do what I wanted in order to get their stuff back. 

“No one ever told the teachers; no one would believe them anyway. To the teachers, I was obedient, quiet, kind of dull and uninteresting. None of them would believe me to be a tiny mastermind of manipulation.” 

He smirked sarcastically, but his face remained cold. “Eventually my…notoriety, I suppose?... It spread through the schools as I got older. The bullies left me alone. I was just that weird, intense kid with no friends.” He shrugged again, his eyes on his whiskey cup as he swirled the contents pensively. 

Keema frowned slightly. “But you’re so charming and friendly. Everyone in the market loves you… well, most everyone. Those who don’t like you are jealous of you. So how…?”

Reyes smiled at her, his eyes finally warming with humour. “Puberty, that’s how. To some degree at least. You may have noticed, but I’m a handsome bastard,” he quipped, and canted his head down at her with a mock-sexy smile. 

Keema snorted and rolled her eyes, though he was undeniably correct.

“It’s strange, suddenly getting attention for something you have no control over,” Reyes mused. “Suddenly people started being… nicer to me. And I realized being nice back was another useful way to get people to do what I wanted.” He shrugged. “It was a useful lesson. I’ve never been one to shy away from any kind of advantage.” 

Keema gazed at him, feeling sad again. The way Reyes described his childhood… like everyone he interacted with was for a purpose or a goal, not just for social connection or friendship. Although Keema wasn’t a typical angara, she considered herself very angaran in her love for social connection and intimacy. Her _olaon_ had grown up without any of that… and he hadn’t even considered it as an important aspect of his own well-being. A new anger at Reyes’ parents grew in her chest as she thought of how they’d failed him with their neglect. 

Reyes was gazing into the middle distance as he continued to swirl his cup slowly. He shifted in his seat, and his ever-present Sidewinder clanked gently at his hip, bringing Keema to her next question. “What about when you got older? How did you learn to use guns? Was it standard training through the Initiative?” A sudden awful thought hit her. “It wasn’t through gang violence on Earth, was it?”

Reyes looked at her in surprise, then laughed. “No no. I told you, I was never a crime boss. Well, until now.” He smirked at her, then continued. “I joined the military arm of the Systems Alliance when I turned eighteen, as soon as I finished my Bachillerato. The Alliance is the human version of… well, it’s like a miniature Andromeda Initiative representing the human race. My parents were furious that I didn’t do something more… art-y.” 

Reyes gave a humourless huff. “Considering how little they cared about what I did, they certainly were pissed when I went and joined the military. They stopped speaking to me. I’m not sure they even know I left the Milky Way. Well, _knew_. It’s all a moot point now anyway.”

Keema gaped at him. “You didn’t tell them you were going to a different galaxy? But you would never see them again!” she blurted. The idea of leaving her family behind forever… A pang of grief struck her chest at the thought. 

Reyes shrugged unconcernedly, a hint of anger in his face now. “I was in the Alliance for ten years. They never contacted me in all that time.” He stood abruptly and went to stand over the kitchenette sink again. 

Keema was quiet for a moment, giving him time to collect himself. “What made you decide to join the Andromeda Initiative?” she asked finally. 

Keema had thought the topic change would put Reyes at ease, but inexplicably, his shoulders tensed further. He turned to face her, and a chill ran down her spine at the icy, forbidding look on his face. “I won’t talk about that,” he said firmly, his stare fixing on her face until she dropped her gaze from his. 

Suddenly Reyes gave an exhausted laugh and rubbed a hand over his face, and then through his hair. Keema looked up at him and he gave her a pleading, tired smile. “Can we talk about something else now? _Anything_ else. I’d rather read an elcor love poem to Evfra than talk about myself anymore. Sorry, Milky Way joke,” he clarified when Keema gave him an uncertain smile. 

“Sure,” Keema replied. “We can talk about my family.”

Reyes raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. “You told me about your family before though. Unless there’s something new-?”

“You. You’re my family,” Keema blurted, standing from the kitchenette counter to approach Reyes. She felt such tenderness and fondness for this man, his hard shell hiding a vulnerable heart that he was only just starting to trust her with. 

“You didn’t grow up with a proper family. But you have one now,” she told him firmly. “You took me in without asking questions. You saved me, gave me food without asking anything in return, opportunities to take back my life. You trusted me with your… secret identity. Even if you sprung it on me like a careless idiot,” she added with a rueful grin. 

“Reyes, _you’re_ my family. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but it means everything to me, my little brother.” 

Reyes stared at her, his face slack with surprise at her outburst, his eyes shining suspiciously brightly. Keema reached down and unstrapped her thigh sheath, then, without hesitation, she grabbed Reyes’ hand and placed the sheath and dagger in his hand. She closed his fingers tightly over the dagger with her other hand and looked up at him. 

“This is yours now. You know where it came from, what it cost me to get it back. I want you to wear it every day and remember that you’re not alone anymore, all right? You have me. We’ll do this thing together.” 

Reyes abruptly put the dagger and sheath on the counter and pulled Keema into a tight hug. She laughed in surprise and delight and hugged him back as her face smushed against his jacket, his arms squeezing around her ribs. 

A long minute later, Reyes drew back and cleared his throat gruffly. Keema smiled to herself and adjusted her jacket, pretending not to notice as he turned to the sink and tried to wipe his face surreptitiously. 

“Thank you, Keema,” he said gruffly, finally smiling at her as he ran his fingers gently over the dagger in its sheath. He slowly grasped the dagger’s hilt and unsheathed it, admiring the intricate carvings in the handle, the etching on the blade. 

“You’ll have to teach me how to use this, though. I’m an amazing marksman,” and Reyes grinned smugly at her, “but I don’t know much about close combat with blades.” 

Keema laughed. She’d expected to be sad to part with her family’s dagger, but to her surprise, she felt... light and free. It felt like embracing a new chapter of her life, a new side of herself. 

“Don’t worry, _olaon_. I’ll teach you. What are sisters for?”


	12. Charlatan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema gets a new job, and Reyes gets a new nickname.

Keema delicately sipped another spoonful of broth from her spoon. Her eyes and ears were open, waiting for signs of unrest in the market, waiting for an opportunity. 

The Collective had spent the last few weeks quietly riling up Kadara’s residents, spreading unflattering - but true - information about Sloane and the Outcasts to exiles and locals alike. The tension in Kadara Port had begun to increase until it could be felt like an electric pulse in the air. 

Keema didn’t like it. 

She knew it was necessary; she kept on telling herself this, because she knew it to be true. Kadara’s population had to be shaken out of complacency and cowardice before anything could change in the port. But she still hated seeing her home in such turmoil. She was hopeful that today would be the day she stepped into Sloane’s HQ and started making some changes. 

Two days ago, Octans had widely disseminated a hacked email from Sloane clearly stating that the Outcasts would not be taking on any angaran recruits under any circumstances. The email had incited a predictable response of anger and defiance from the locals. A number of fistfights and arguments had broken out in the port, and though she hated the violence, Keema had been encouraged to see a number of non-angaran residents speaking up for angaran rights. _Reyes and his crew aren’t the only ones who want to live peacefully with the angara,_ she’d thought. This knowledge alone helped assure Keema that their efforts were worth the inevitable violence. 

She took another bite of her Sur’Keshian ramen. As she was chewing, she spotted her mark, emerging from Sloane’s HQ: Kaetus, a pistol hanging at his hip and an assault rifle on his back. Lyza’s intel had indicated that he would be overseeing activity in the market today; a perfect opportunity for Keema to approach him, once the right moment presented itself. 

Keema didn’t have to wait long. She was almost at the bottom of her bowl of ramen when the angry rumbling started, then quickly escalated to shouting. Keema turned to look: an angaran man was face-to-face with Kaetus, yelling at him in Shelesh and brandishing his fist. 

“I would advise you to calm the fuck down,” Kaetus growled, his hand hovering over his pistol. “Please.” 

The angara’s chest seemed to swell in indignation and he took a hostile step closer to Kaetus. Kaetus pulled his pistol from his holster. 

_That’s my cue,_ Keema thought with a rush of nervous energy, and hastily stood from the table and shoved through the quickly assembling crowd towards Kaetus and his angaran opponent. “Wait!” she yelled in Milky Way Standard. “Wait, please.” She thrust herself between Kaetus and the angara. 

Kaetus took a step back and eyed her with surprise and suspicion, his pistol in hand. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

“My name is Keema. I used to work here in the port. I… I don’t want violence, please. I’d like to help. What’s the matter?”

Kaetus gestured impatiently at the angry angara. “I don’t know. I just stepped into the market and this fool started yelling at me.”

Keema looked at Kaetus with genuine surprise. “Your translator doesn’t have Shelesh?” 

Kaetus shook his head. “No. Haven’t needed it.”

In a heroic show of restraint, Keema stopped herself from curling her lip in disgust at him. _He lives on an angaran world for months and can’t be bothered to understand our language?_

Keema shoved the thought aside for the moment and turned to the angara. “Kaleej, isn’t it? What’s the problem here?” she asked in Shelesh. She recognized him from her previous life; he had been an administrative assistant whom she only really knew by face and name. 

Kaleej looked at her, his anger briefly cooled by surprise. “Um, yes. I… well, these Outcasts walk around with their weapons like they’re still fighting the kett. But there are no kett here anymore. Why do the Outcasts need weapons, when we angara aren’t allowed to carry them in port anymore? Who are they planning to use their weapons on?” His anger boiled over again as he explained, his voice increasing in volume. 

Keema felt Kaetus shifting restlessly beside her, and she held out a placating hand to him as she replied to Kaleej. “I understand. Please, let me speak to him. I’ll let him know that their weapons are making us feel uncomfortable. These _vesagara_ only really listen to their own language, you know.” She gave Kaleej a brief complicit smile, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. He nodded and took a step back. 

Keema gave an internal sigh of relief, then turned to Kaetus and switched back to Milky Way Standard. “He’s concerned about the Outcasts’ weapons. He’s afraid you’re planning to use them on the population, since Sloane successfully eliminated all the kett.” She purposely weaved a compliment for Sloane into her interpretation.

Kaetus eyed Kaleej, then holstered his weapon. There was a tangible softening of the tension in the air, and the bloodthirsty crowd around them began to loosen and drift apart. “Tell him I’m not planning to use my weapons on any innocent citizens. If he goes about his business and _doesn’t antagonize me,_ he has no reason to be afraid,” said Kaetus.

_Well, I can’t exactly translate that directly; too much of an implicit threat_ , Keema thought ruefully. She turned to Kaleej. “He has no plans to use the weapons on the population. He was just intimidated by your anger.” In a confidential tone, she added, “I think these _vesagara_ are worried the kett will come back. They want to be on guard.”

Kaleej gave a skeptical snort, but his posture remained relaxed. “Then they should allow us to carry our weapons. If the kett do come back, we need to be able to protect ourselves.”

Keema nodded. “Let me talk to him,” she said soothingly in Shelesh. “He’s Sloane Kelly’s general. I’ll share our concerns.” In one single sentence, she’d informed Kaleej that she was knowledgeable about the _vesagara_ , but also that she was aligned with her own people: _our_ concerns. She and Reyes wanted the population to trust her once she began working for Sloane.

Kaleej sighed, then nodded and took another step back. “Your name is Keema, you said? Thank you, Keema. Stay strong.” He threw Kaetus one last resentful glance, then walked away. 

Keema turned back to Kaetus and smiled up at him with only slightly-feigned relief. “That was close. I’m glad we could avoid a fight,” she said, keeping her eyes wide and guileless. 

Kaetus’s brow plates twitched. “Uh-huh. Who are you, exactly?” 

Keema reached her hand out to him in a common Milky Way greeting. “Keema Dorhgun. I used to be an administrator here in the port, before the kett threat became overwhelming. May I make a suggestion?”

Kaetus shook her hand briskly, then folded his arms. “You can try. I won’t promise to follow it.”

“May I install the Shelesh lexicon on your translator? I’m certain it will help prevent similar misunderstandings. It will make your life significantly easier, I assure you. My life has been much better since I learned Milky Way Standard.” Keema sneered internally at herself for her ass-licking, but it was necessary to win Kaetus over. 

The turian stared at her suspiciously for a moment, then extended his arm with its omni-tool. Keema beamed at him. “Thank you,” she said, then quickly tapped at his omni-tool to install the necessary lexicon and algorithms. 

Kaetus eyed his omni-tool, then gave her a grudging nod. “Thank you,” he said, and his voice sounded genuine. _Reyes was right,_ she thought. _He is reasonable, albeit ignorant._

To that end, Keema delicately asked, “May I ask why you hadn’t installed Shelesh on your translator before?”

Kaetus shot her a look, and for the first time, Keema could see a bit of guilty sheepishness in his gaze. “I haven’t had much contact with the locals,” he admitted gruffly. “And the ones I have spoken to know at least some Milky Way Standard. That guy was the first one I’d met who didn’t know any of our language. Actually, you’re the first angara I’ve met who speaks our language fluently.” He eyed her again, his gaze growing suspicious. “How _do_ you know MWS so well?”

Keema gave a throaty laugh and raised her chin smugly. _No harm in trying to use some feminine charm, even if he is Sloane’s boytoy._ “I’m a dab hand with languages,” she explained, purposely using an esoteric human expression to highlight her linguistic prowess. “I speak thirteen languages. Picking up MWS was easy for me. And necessary, if I wanted to help your people.”

Kaetus frowned at her. “You want to help _us_? Why?” He folded his arms skeptically. “You don’t think we’re intruders and interlopers?”

_Of course you are,_ was Keema’s first impulsive thought, but she forced herself to think of her Milky Way friends: Reyes, Lyza, Octans, Kian, even taciturn Robert. “You helped us. We could all have been dead in a week if you hadn’t arrived. Of course I want to help.” She tilted her head and stared at Kaetus earnestly. “I know my people aren’t happy. I want to help them, but I think Sloane deserves to be in charge. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.” 

Keema swallowed the foul taste of her own words, then continued. “Please. I would like to help Sloane, if she’ll let me. I can tell her what’s important to the angara, make it easier for her to run things in the Port. I would hate for the violence here to continue just because we don’t understand each other.” She waved a hand expansively at the port. 

Kaetus stared at her consideringly, and Keema kept her eyes on his face, her gaze open and guileless. Finally Kaetus nodded. “All right. I’ll set up a meeting for you with Sloane. No guarantees she’ll accept your proposition,” he added forbiddingly. He pulled up his omni-tool interface to receive her contact information.

Keema let her shoulders sink in mock-relief and smiled at Kaetus. “Thank you. I appreciate the show of faith.” She opened her omni-tool interface and hovered it near Kaetus’, allowing her public contact information to transfer to his tool. 

“Mm-hmm. I’ll be in touch.” Kaetus strode away without another word. 

Keema slowly drifted back to the ramen bar and sat, then ordered an extortionately expensive cup of water. Her hands were shaking slightly, but her body thrummed with satisfaction. Everything was going according to plan so far. 

******************

Two days later, Keema walked into Sloane’s HQ accompanied by Kaetus and tried to pretend that she didn’t know exactly where she was going. When the main doors had opened with their characteristic _whoosh_ , Keema had experienced an unusual moment of vertigo and surrealness at the combination of the familiar - _my old offices_ \- and the unusual - _occupied by an alien tyrant_. She’d had to take a deep breath to shake off the dizziness before following Kaetus inside. 

She followed Kaetus to what was formerly the events room. The doors opened and Keema stepped inside, carefully controlling her surprise at the change to the room.

The room was largely the same: sunken alcoves to the left and right with many tables and chairs for socializing, the rear windows permitting creamy orange sunlight to slat through the blinds. But the main rear area had formerly contained a large round table with many chairs for committee meetings and formal dinners. The space was barren now save for a raised dais and a huge armchair that seemed to have been modified from a storage crate. Keema took a small breath through her nose to control the contempt that rose in her gorge. _She really fancies herself the Queen of Kadara, doesn’t she? A raised dais, a throne… I wonder if she’s made a crown for herself from the bones of my people._

As Kaetus and Keema approached the dais, a side door opened and Sloane strode in. She ascended the dais and sat in the chair, slinging one leg over an armrest and impatiently gesturing for Keema and Kaetus to approach. “Well? Kaetus says you want to help. You can start by telling me who you are.”

Keema clasped her hands humbly behind her back as she subtly inspected Sloane’s face. Sloane’s eyebrows were raised, her blue-and-brown eyes unnervingly intense, her lips pursed with impatience… but not a speck of recognition in her face. 

_She doesn’t remember throwing me out of this building. She has no idea who I am._ Keema fought the surge of rage in her stomach and reminded herself that this was a good thing; Reyes had been concerned that Sloane would be suspicious if she recognized Keema, so he’d be pleased. 

Keema smiled and inclined her head politely. “My name is Keema Dohrgun. I was a director here, before the kett threat became overwhelming. I’m… not sure if Kaetus told you what happened in port two days ago-?”

“Yes, I heard,” Sloane interrupted. “It sounds like your little translation stunt saved the day.” Keema was uncertain if Sloane was being sarcastic or not; her voice was very flat. Keema raised her eyes again to see Sloane regarding her closely. Sloane eventually shifted in her seat, then admitted, “Updating the translators was a good idea. Kaetus shared the lexicon with most of my staff. It’s… helped with controlling the locals.”

Sloane sat forward with a frown, her elbows on her knees. “What do you want exactly? You were clearly an established part of the management here. Why do you want to help us?” 

Keema took a tentative step forward. She felt encouraged when Kaetus didn’t move from his place beside Sloane to stop her. “I want to help everyone living on this planet,” she clarified. This much was true. “We have you to thank for eliminating the kett. But… many of my people feel that their needs are… not being heard. You have done an incredibly important thing here, and your protection is essential,” she continued as Sloane narrowed her eyes at the hint of criticism. “But if you want to remain in power, you _must_ understand the locals’ perspective. The angara could make a lot of trouble for you if their unhappiness continues.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t want any more fighting on my home. I want us all to live in peace. Let me be your angaran advisor. You’ll be under no obligation to do what I suggest; I can simply… inform and advise about our customs.”

Sloane stared at her and Keema gazed back confidently. Finally Sloane settled back and hiked her foot up on the chair again. “Alright then. Make a suggestion. Tell me something you think I should do to ease all this… civil unrest.”

Keema felt a small jolt of surprise. She and Reyes hadn’t prepared for an on-the-spot audition. But the former usage of this room gave Keema the perfect idea. 

She took another confident step closer to Sloane. “Throw a party. Invite the locals, give them a taste of your generosity, let them get to know you. People will be more accepting of you if they know who you are.” 

Kaetus frowned. “That would be a waste of resources. We’re strapped enough in supporting our own people as it is.”

But Sloane raised her eyebrows in surprise… and then she smiled. Keema was startled by the transformation to her face. When Sloane smiled, she looked almost… nice. Suddenly Keema had an inkling of an idea as to why Reyes had wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. 

“You know what, you’re right,” Sloane said, and her voice held more warmth than Keema had ever heard before. “I’d forgotten how well a party works to make people relax and forget their problems.” 

She eyed Keema with a bit more respect, then gestured for her to ascend the dais. “What other ideas have you got?”

Keema smiled in genuine relief, a rush of dark satisfaction filling her. _Gotcha._

*********************

Reyes glanced up and smiled quickly at Keema as she stepped into his apartment. “... still hasn’t learned to close his accounts after using the public terminal. It’s tragic, really.” Octans’ voice through the omni-tool speaker was tinged with amusement. “So that will remain a good source of information.”

Reyes pursed his lips. “Be careful, Octans. I don’t want to constantly tap the same terminals.” 

Octans chuckled. “Don’t worry, boss. Everyone’s terminal, datapad, and omni-tool is fair game. Nobody will notice a pattern.” Suddenly Octans’ tone became more businesslike. “Oh, by the way, Lyza heard some conversations within our ranks that you might find interesting. Many of the recruits don’t believe that Lyza, Robert and I are sharing power. They’re insisting that the orders are coming down from some higher-up who wants to remain anonymous. We’ve been trying to dispel the rumours, but our denials just seem to make them double down.”

Reyes pursed his lips and glanced at Keema, who folded her arms and threw him an _I-told-you-so_ look. “Hmm. Well, I’m glad we have intelligent recruits, at least.”

Octans chuckled. “The best part is that the idea of some mystery boss seems to make these recruits more devoted to the group. Lyza said that they’ve been spending entire meal breaks theorizing about who the mystery boss could be. They’ve started calling us charlatans. Oh, all in good fun,” he assured Reyes, almost as though he could see Reyes’ sudden frown. “Trust me, it’s having a positive impact on the group identity. Lyza’s almost encouraging it.” 

Reyes sighed and then gave a little chuckle. “Charlatans, you say? I like that. It’s not a word I hear every day.” Finally he nodded. “Thanks for the update, Octans. Over and out.”

“Out,” Octans agreed, and Reyes ended the call then turned to Keema. “I hear you have good news too?” he asked with a smile. He gallantly offered her his seat at the kitchenette counter, then went to the cupboard and brought her a nutrient paste pack. 

Keema gratefully accepted the pack; she hadn’t eaten since her ramen that morning, and she was famished. “Yes. It worked perfectly. Sloane has hired me full-time as her ‘angaran representative’, as she calls me. I think it’s going to be 10% giving Sloane ideas and 90% posing as her angaran pet, but… It’ll be for the best, so I’ll tolerate it.” Keema shrugged, but was unable to stop her despondency from showing on her face.

Reyes sat beside her, his own paste pack in hand, then took hold of her arm. “Hey. Remember that it’s just a front. Okay? You’re an indispensable member of our group. We couldn’t do this without you. Remember that anytime Sloane makes you feel unappreciated.” He squeezed her arm, then twisted open his paste pack.

Keema slurped sadly from her pack. “I’m going to miss working for you,” she blurted. 

Reyes swallowed his mouthful of paste, then grinned at her. “You still work for me, you nut. Now it’s just even more of a secret than it was before. I’m not letting you go so easily.” He winked at her, then finished off his paste pack with a shudder of disgust. 

Keema noticed his grimace. “Why _are_ you back to eating these, Reyes? You hate them. Don’t you have anything else?”

Reyes shook his head regretfully. “I stopped buying fresh food. Saving my credits for something else.” 

Keema widened her eyes in surprise. “Really? What for?” She felt a little leap of excitement. “Is it to do with taking out the Oblivion operation?” she asked. The Oblivion operation was still a major preoccupation for Keema, particularly as the drug’s popularity was gradually spreading through the local population, like an insidious blood cancer. 

Unfortunately, Reyes shook his head regretfully. “It’s still not the right time,” he replied, his eyebrows drawn together apologetically. “It’s too heavily guarded. We need to keep building our forces and our armory. Don’t forget the shitshow that will result when we eliminate Sloane’s major source of income… she’ll wreak havoc on anyone who’s suspected of being involved, so we’ll need to be ready.”

Keema sighed and nodded; she and Reyes had had this conversation more than once. She’d been angry at first that he refused to act immediately, particularly since the Oblivion problem had been the catalyst for Reyes’ decision to officially oppose Sloane. But she’d eventually come around to understanding his reasoning. In the meantime, Keema had been quietly warning the locals about the addictive nature of Oblivion, with Reyes’ encouragement. 

“So what are you saving your credits for, then? A new set of bedsheets? Do you even change these ones?” She frowned at his tidily-made bed as though it was a pigpen. 

Reyes gave her an offended look. “Of course I do. I have two identical sets. I change them regularly. And you don’t need to nag me, I’m a grown-ass man,” he said, then shoved her gently in the arm. 

Keema laughed and shoved him back. “Stop dodging the question! What are you doing with your extra credits?”

Under his breath, Reyes muttered, “Nosy.” Then he finally answered her question. “I’m planning to put the credits into a soup kitchen in the slums, near Ryota’s clinic. For the Port residents who get kicked out and have no money for food or water. If they can get a few free meals, we could prevent some people from drinking unfiltered water out of desperation.” He stood and went into the kitchen and rifled around in the cupboards. 

Keema watched him, surprised and delighted by his idea. But he was acting weird, in that way that he did sometimes when he talked about emotional topics. _What’s emotional about starting a charitable food donation?_ she wondered. She stood from the counter and approached him as he stared into a cupboard. 

Keema reached out and touched Reyes’ arm, and he spun towards her somewhat abruptly. “It’s a worthwhile use of credits,” he said firmly, his face serious and businesslike, but his voice sounded slightly defensive. “If we openly tell people that the food is from the Collective, it’ll immediately put us in a favourable light. Alleviating hunger is an excellent way to win people to our side.” 

“I agree,” Keema replied in a soothing voice. “I love the idea. It’s… extremely generous of you, Reyes. This will help a lot of people.” She clasped his hand tightly. _Why would he feel like he has to defend a selfless act?_ she wondered, her heart aching for him. 

Reyes’ shoulders relaxed slightly and he squeezed her fingers in response, but his manner remained businesslike and detached. “We can’t appear soft or weak. We’ll frame it to the others as a recruiting strategy,” he told her, and his voice brooked no argument. Keema sighed internally; when Reyes was in dark-and-detached mode, it could be difficult to talk him out of it. 

So Keema nodded agreement. “All right. What do you want the soup kitchen employees to tell people?” 

Reyes paused in thought. Then he smirked suddenly and chuckled. When he looked over at Keema, his lips were curled in a smile, and his hooded bronze eyes glinted with dark amusement.

“Tell them to thank the Charlatan.”


	13. Interlude: Whiskey and Wine IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema can't sit still, and Reyes gets pissy. 
> 
> A/N: very short chapter here! I'm a little distracted with ideas, so sorry about that.

Keema glanced at Reyes and smirked. Then she mentally chastised herself for her immaturity and tried to sit still.

She closed her eyes. A moment later, she shifted on the chaise-lounge, then sniffed idly and cleared her throat.

Reyes scowled and opened his eyes to scowl at her. “Keema.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry - I’m trying! Okay, I’m comfortable now. I’ll be quiet.” Keema folded her hands in her lap, mimicking Reyes’ posture.

Reyes closed his eyes again and took another deep breath in through his nose. Keema did the same… then immediately started giggling. 

Reyes’ shoulders slumped and he unfolded his legs. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you today?” he demanded. “You’re usually all elegant and… and grown-up. Why are you acting like a toddler?”

Keema gasped in a breath. “I’m sorry!” she sputtered. “You just look so funny with your legs crossed like that. How do they even _do_ that? It looks painful. ” She fell into a fresh round of giggles. 

Reyes leaned his weight back on his palms and stared at her with exasperation. He was seated on the carpet in the main room of her apartment, and she was sitting across from him on the chaise-lounge. He was trying to teach Keema mindfulness and meditation exercises. He’d told her in all seriousness that this would help her mask her feelings around Sloane, as well as to withstand torture if their friendship was ever discovered and Keema was arrested by Outcasts. She’d seemed to understand at the time that he was serious. 

But looking at her laughing like a loon on the chaise-lounge now, you wouldn’t know it. 

Reyes sighed. “I can sit on a chair too if that makes you stop acting like an idiot. It doesn’t matter what body position you take when you’re doing this. You just have to be comfortable. Come on, Keems, this is important,” he snapped when she continued to smirk at him. He stood and folded his arms. “These exercises could save your life someday. I hope it never comes to that, but they’ve saved my life countless times.” 

Keema sobered. He was in his dark-and-dangerous mode, the mode that she’d come to call his Charlatan mode. She folded her hands in lap with contrition. “I’m sorry, Reyes. I understand why you want me to learn this, I do. I’m taking it seriously.”

“It doesn’t seem that way,” he replied, his voice cold and hard. “You need to master this. You’re getting better at hiding your feelings, Keema, but you still slip too often for my liking. You’re too much of an open book. Kaetus will have a harder time reading you, but Sloane won’t. You have to master this.”

Keema looked up at him sadly. Reyes often became cold and over-controlled like this when he was feeling the strongest emotions. But when he was like this, Keema knew there was rarely any point trying to force him to talk; he would just become more taciturn and surly. 

So Keema simply nodded. “Okay. I’m ready to try again.” She lay back on the couch and closed her eyes. 

She heard Reyes settle back onto the carpet, and when he spoke again, his voice was warm and soothing. “We’ll try the progressive relaxation again. It’ll get you in the mindset, focusing on your body sensations in the moment. Relax your whole body. Close your eyes… then squeeze them shut tight, tight as you can and hold… now relax your eyes.” 

Keema followed his instructions, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the exercise. Reyes had such a dynamic voice, ranging from teasing to serious, warm and friendly to cold and commanding. But moments like this, these quiet comfortable moments between family, were when she liked his voice the best: relaxed and lazy, like an afternoon on Aya. She suddenly wanted to ask him whether he could sing. If he sang her a lullaby, she was sure she could fall right to sleep. 

As though he could read her thoughts, his next instruction came, tinged with slight amusement: “Any thoughts that pass through your mind, just let them pass by. Don’t force yourself to ignore them, but don’t engage them either. Observe them, and let them pass.” 

Keema smiled slightly. She would ask him later.


	14. Interlude: Whiskey and Wine V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keema teaches Reyes a new skill, and chastises him for his emotional constipation.

Keema crouched in a defensive stance, an old dagger in her right hand, and grinned at Reyes. She feinted to the left, then suddenly lunged at him. As her right hand started to dip low he grabbed her wrist, forcing the point of her dagger away, then pushed in close, swiping at her with the dagger in his own right hand. She raised her left arm to defend herself, and Reyes forced her own right hand in towards her face, forcing her to punch herself lightly in the cheekbone with the hilt of her own dagger. 

Keema laughed in delight even as a dull pain rose in her cheek. “Very good!” she exclaimed as Reyes dropped his grip on her wrist. “You’re picking this up so quickly! Stars and skies, you might actually be better than me someday.” She touched her cheek gingerly. 

Reyes grinned at her, already crouched again in a ready stance. “Want to go again, or do you need some ice? I’ve got some on hand. I only had to pay Umi an arm and a leg for it.” 

Keema snorted, then settled into a crouch as well. “Don’t exaggerate. You never pay Umi for anything.”

“And yet she continues to give me whatever I need. Why do you think that is?” He winked lasciviously at Keema. 

Keema stood and placed her hands on her hips, then laughed out loud. “You are so full of {skkut}! There’s no way Umi would sleep with you. Don’t even try to pretend.”

Reyes shrugged enigmatically, then abruptly relaxed his stance and grinned. “Okay, you’re right. But I do have ice if you need it.”

Keema twirled her dagger casually, a smooth spinning motion that always impressed Reyes. “No, I’m alright. Let’s continue.” She flipped the dagger and caught it while simultaneously crouching again. 

Reyes grinned at her with approval; it never failed to delight him that there was a fighter inside of her. He crouched as well, his dagger at the ready. “By the way, speaking of people I’ve slept with, I dumped Zia today. And fired her.”

Keema stood, her shoulders slumping with disappointment, all thoughts of combat training gone. “Reyes! Why? What happened?”

Reyes stood and sheathed Keema’s family dagger - now his most prized possession - at his thigh. “She fucked up. Again. I can’t work with incompetence.” He shrugged and headed towards the small freezer in the kitchenette. 

Keema folded her arms. “So you dumped her?”

Reyes raised one eyebrow at her as he pulled a small packet of ice from the freezer. “Yes. Obviously.” He frowned. “Why do you care? You never even met her. It won’t be a problem.” 

Keema squeezed the bridge of her nose with both hands. {Stars and skies,} she thought with exasperation. “Won’t be a problem for you, you mean. She must have been devastated. I don’t understand how you can be so cold! Angara would never treat each other this way.”

Reyes twisted his lips at her in annoyance. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not angara.” He threw the ice pack to her.

Keema caught the pack deftly, but she was starting to get angry. “You could stand to learn something from the way we express emotions, Reyes. Your mindfulness exercises might have saved your life, but I think you’re abusing them to stop yourself from feeling things that you {should} feel. If you push everything down all the time, you won’t be able to form meaningful relationships.”

Reyes scowled at her. “I don’t need… relationships. I have a trusted crew. I can get sex whenever I feel like it. And I have you, don’t I? That’s all I need.” 

Keema dropped the ice pack and strode over to him, then grabbed his chin and looked at him with all the sternness of a big sister. “You’re {lucky} I put up with all your mean-and-bossy bullshit sometimes,” she told him. “I love you, Reyes, but if you carry on like this with everyone, I might be the only person who ever does.”

Reyes pushed her hand away and glared at her. “So what?” he snapped belligerently. “What does it matter? I reward good performance and loyalty. I punish poor performance and sloppiness. It’s a simple system. Feelings don’t need to play into it.” 

Keema sighed. He was prevaricating, talking circles around the issue she was trying to address. She {knew} Reyes was not as cold as he was making himself out to be. He’d learned to downplay the importance of attachment and love because he’d never been offered any by his parents, but Keema liked to think that her open affection and fondness were changing him… but sometimes, like today, she thought he was just being obstreperous on purpose.

She changed tack to try to get through to him. “If you keep treating everyone like you treated Zia, it will come back to bite you in the ass one day. You may be able to keep your feelings separate from your work, but other people can’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard the end of it with her.”

Reyes waved a dismissive hand. “Zia is a hotheaded incompetent. If she manages to get back at me, I’ll throw her a party to celebrate her developing some intelligence. How would that be for showing some emotion?” He gave Keema a cheeky, sarcastic smile. 

Keema gazed at him, unsure how to respond. Her anger was fading into sadness… sadness for him. 

Reyes noticed her face, and finally he softened. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Keems… you’re the only person who’s ever been worth making an effort for. I like to think I wouldn’t be a dick if I met someone else worthwhile. But I just… haven’t.” He shrugged. “Save your lectures for later. I thought we were supposed to be training?” He walked back to the middle of his living space, then unsheathed his dagger, tossed it in the air, and caught it while simultaneously crouching… an exact, perfect imitation of Keema’s earlier move. 

Keema beamed at him with pride. “I knew you’d be a good student. Fine, you’re off the hook. For now.” Without hesitation, she picked up her practice dagger from the coffee table and ducked under the swipe of his right hand, then feinted towards his side, making him dodge away.

As they sparred, half of Keema’s mind remained on Reyes. As time had passed and the tensions between the Outcasts and the Collective continued to rise, she had noticed that Reyes acted like the Charlatan more and more often. 

Keema couldn’t help but hope that he would meet someone soon who could help her bring him back to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Things are starting to wind down towards the end, my friends! Just FYI. :)


	15. Pathfinder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which news of the Pathfinder hits Kadara... to Sloane's disgust, and Reyes and Keema's satisfaction.

**A few months later…**

“Fuck!” 

Sloane slammed her fist on the arm of her chair, then slumped back and rubbed her mouth in frustration. Kaetus stood stoically, his hands clasped behind his back as he awaited her orders. But Sloane was starting to run out of ideas.

The motherfucking Collective always seemed to be a step ahead of her. Sloane and her closest operatives had been scrambling to protect their resources, to interview their new recruits more thoroughly, to reassure the locals that they _weren't_ the xenophobic tyrants that the Collective made them out to be… but as much as Sloane hated to say it, the Outcasts were starting to lose ground. She was managing to maintain appearances in the Port, but things were an absolute mess in the badlands: gunfights were breaking out daily, and her people were on the losing side more often than she cared to admit. 

Sloane took a deep breath as a wave of exhaustion and sheer unhappiness washed over her. She had _never_ wanted this kind of civil unrest. It was what she had tried so hard to avoid on the Nexus. It was why she'd put aside her weapons to talk to Calix during the Uprising. And here she was, head honcho of one of two warring factions, with no way forward but to fight or die. _Surrender is not an option. I won't let my people down. They trusted me to find them a home, and I'll die before I give up this fucking port._

Sloane forced herself to sit up straight. She looked imperiously at Kaetus. “We’ll consolidate the ammo. The majority of it will stay here so we can watch it more carefully. Increase the guards; our original crew only for now. I can't trust any of those new fuckers.” 

Kaetus nodded. “I’ll start a new system for our camps in the badlands to replenish their ammo.” 

Sloane nodded as well, then slumped slightly in her chair. “Bloody hell, Kaetus. Where did I go wrong?”

Kaetus’ posture softened. Sloane’s tactics were becoming more ruthless as the Collective continued to gain influence. She was relying on brute force more than negotiation these days, and frankly, Kaetus was starting to worry about her. Moments like this - when she admitted to uncertainty - were extremely rare, and highlighted the stress she was under. 

Kaetus slowly made his way up the dais. He crouched at her feet so he could look into her face. She gazed back at him, dark circles under her eyes. “Oh wait, I know where I went wrong. I left the fucking Milky Way Galaxy.” She gave him a wan smile. 

Kaetus’ mandibles flared as he smiled in return. He cupped her cheek with one hand. “All we can do is keep going forward,” he told her, his flanged voice firm but warm. “Don’t worry about what could have been. Just focus on one thing at a time, and keep pushing forward like you always do.” 

Sloane heaved a sigh and turned her face into the rough skin of his hand to kiss his palm briefly. “I know. I’m just… so fucking _tired_ , Kaetus. Half the time I want to just get on a shuttle and fly off this fucking planet. Go join the krogan. Let Morda be in charge, for fuck’s sake, just for a little peace and quiet.” 

Kaetus chuckled. “Peace and quiet among the _krogan_? I know you don’t mean that.”

Sloane smirked grudgingly at him. “No, I don't. She’s a bloodthirsty maniac. But still…” She sighed again.

At that moment, her omni-tool pinged: Keema was outside her office requesting entry. Sloane sat up straight and Kaetus stood, briskly assuming his customary position to the right of her chair. When Keema entered, both Sloane and Kaetus appeared coolly in control. 

“Sloane; Kaetus.” Keema greeted them with an affable nod as she swayed towards the dais. Sloane nodded back briefly. She respected Keema’s intelligence, but despite their many months working together, Sloane just couldn’t… feel settled around her. There was nothing specific about Keema that Sloane didn’t like; Sloane just probably felt uncomfortable around the angara as a group for the same reason that she felt at home with the turians and krogan.

Keema spoke again as she reached the foot of the dais. “Major developments from off-planet. The dockworkers are talking about it. One of your arcs reached the Nexus. Apparently a Pathfinder survived?”

Sloane leaned back in her chair, her face inscrutable, but Kaetus took an eager step forward. “Which arc? Which Pathfinder? Did they say?” he demanded. 

Keema nodded. “The Hyperion. It’s the human Pathfinder, someone named Ryder.”

Kaetus’ posture drooped slightly in disappointment, but his face and voice remained professional. He turned to Sloane. “If Alec Ryder is making the rounds of Heleus, he’ll show up here sooner than later. How do you want to proceed?”

Sloane crossed her legs and snorted. “It’s a little too late for the Pathfinder now. We already found our own path here. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to give the bloody Nexus a foothold on our planet.” 

“Will we negotiate if the Nexus are willing to share supplies in exchange for a colony?” Kaetus asked. 

“Never,” spat Sloane as she surged to her feet. In her mind, working with the Initiative meant Jarun Tann… and she would never, _ever_ make that mistake again. If only Kesh had been in charge, or even Addison... But Tann? “If they work for Tann, they don’t work with me. Besides, anything the Pathfinder wants to do will have to be approved by that frog-eyed piece of shit first. Tann will never allow the precious Pathfinder to negotiate with exiles.” Sloane’s voice dripped sarcasm as she stepped close to Kaetus, her body practically vibrating with rage as she thought of Tann: his preoccupation with protocol while people were dying; his underhanded attempts to go behind her back; his decision to loose the krogan on Calix and his people… 

“We don’t work with the Initiative. We’re on our own,” she growled at Kaetus. She turned her glare on Keema to press home the point. “Understood?”

Kaetus and Keema both murmured and affirmative, and Sloane sat in her throne again, fighting to get her temper under control. _Motherfucking Tann. Always brought out the worst in me…_ She couldn’t help but savour the memory of punching him in his flat, complacent face, and funnily enough, the memory helped her to calm down. 

Her temper back under control, she turned a cool smile on Kaetus. “You have your orders. Get to it.” Kaetus nodded briskly and strode away, and Sloane turned to Keema. “Now. Aside from bad news disguised as good news, what else do you have for me?”

Keema approached Sloane and began discussing some idea or another for winning the locals’ favour, but Sloane’s mind swirled off in various directions. She just had so much shit to deal with because of the fucking Collective… and this fucking Charlatan, whoever he or she was. Sloane just didn’t have the mental energy to think about the locals when so much was at stake with her own people. 

But as Kaetus would say, she would focus on one thing at a time. And keep pushing forward.

No matter the cost.

*********************

Later that night, Keema called Reyes on their encrypted line. He picked up almost immediately. 

“Keema! I was starting to think you’d fallen into a sulfur pool. It’s been two days.” 

Keema smiled affectionately. Despite his joking tone, she knew he was worried. “I know. I’m sorry. Sloane has been more… suspicious than usual. Which is a good thing, in some ways; we’re really getting under her skin.”

“I know,” Reyes replied, his voice darkly amused. “Isn’t is great?” 

Keema smiled again, but her heart ached. She really missed Reyes. The Collective was rapidly growing, and she and Reyes had decided that it wouldn’t be safe for them to spend much time together anymore, even in private. She hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks - an eternity for an angara to not see a beloved family member - and as Reyes had mentioned, they hadn’t spoken in two days. 

“So what’s new? Major developments in Sloane’s camp?” Reyes asked.

“Actually, major developments in terms of the Initiative. Did Lyza tell you?”

“Ah, yes. The human Pathfinder has arrived in Andromeda!” Reyes said grandiosely, then gave a brief rueful laugh. “About a year too late, but better late than never, I suppose.” 

“Naturally, Sloane insisted she wouldn’t work with the Pathfinder,” Keema reported lazily. 

“Of course she won’t,” Reyes replied in a deadpan voice. “So we absolutely will. If Sloane roadblocks the Pathfinder, we’ll be optimally positioned to help him instead… and to get his help in return. I’m sure this Alec Ryder isn’t immune to charm.”

Keema grinned. She could imagine Reyes’ smug preening so clearly. “I heard he’s an older man. Are you into that?”

“I could be.” Reyes and Keema both snickered lewdly.

Then Reyes sobered. “Seriously though, this could be exactly what we need. We’ll keep eyes and ears out for news of the Pathfinder coming to Govorkam; he’s bound to come eventually. There’s no way they’ll be able to resist scoping out an already-inhabited planet for a colony. If the Pathfinder works with us, gives us access to Nexus resources and power, we’ll be able to get rid of Sloane for good.”

Keema nodded. “So what’s your plan? Will you tell the Pathfinder that you’re the head of the Collective?”

“Fuck no,” Reyes interrupted. “We don’t know Alec Ryder. Can’t guarantee that he’ll be willing to work with big-time criminals. He’ll know I’m a smuggler, there’s no avoiding that, but who doesn’t love a thief?” 

Keema chuckled. He had a point. Who could resist Reyes in full charm mode?

*******************

**A few months later still...**

Reyes was working in his office in Tartarus when his omni-tool buzzed to indicate a call. Distractedly, he glanced at it, then smirked as Evfra’s name appeared. He answered the call. “Evfra! Good to hear from you,” he said genially. 

“Shena.” Evfra’s voice, as always, was flat and faintly disapproving. Reyes had initially thought that Evfra disapproved of _him_ , or of the Milky Wayers in general, but he’d eventually realized that Evfra didn’t really approve of anyone. 

“You have a task,” Evfra said bluntly. “The human Pathfinder, Ryder, needs information about Vehn Terev. She’s due to arrive on Kadara tomorrow morning. Tell her everything you know. She needs Vehn’s intel to rescue Moshae Sjefa.” 

“Will do- wait. You said ‘she’? Alec Ryder is a man,” Reyes said with a frown. “Are you mixing up your pronouns?”

Evfra gave a tiny growl of annoyance, and Reyes couldn’t help but smile. “No. The Pathfinder is a woman. Possibly related to this Alec Ryder. It’s of no consequence. Do what you can to help her.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” purred Reyes. Evfra grunted - with disapproval, of course - and hung up on him.

Reyes chuckled as he closed his omni-tool interface. _Thanks very much, Evfra. You just made my plans a whole lot more legitimate,_ he thought with great satisfaction. Keema would be highly amused when she found out that Evfra had given him a legitimate reason to work with the Pathfinder. 

The situation couldn’t be any more ideal. 

The next morning, Reyes strolled through the market toward Kralla’s Song. Lyza had passed on a description of the young Pathfinder from their people in the docks: young, black hair in a short pixie cut, green eyes, wearing a stylish black synth-leather jacket and a bright green scarf. _She’ll draw attention for sure if she's dressed that nicely,_ Reyes thought. _She must really be a newbie._

Reyes couldn’t hide his smirk of satisfaction as he stepped through the doors of Umi’s bar. A young woman, uncertain in her new role? There couldn’t be an easier mark to manipulate for his and Keema’s plans. 

He stopped briefly at the top of the stairs and chatted briefly with the salarian Collective recruiter who had long since stopped trying to recruit Reyes, since Reyes politely refused every time. Reyes glanced casually around the bar; the Pathfinder was certain to be here already, since Reyes himself was 10 minutes late. 

Then he spotted her. 

She leaned against the bar, all lush curves in a small, compact body. She looked relaxed, smiling with amusement at a belligerent drunk krogan who was trying to argue with Umi, but even from this distance, Reyes could see the sharp alertness in her bright green eyes. Her eyes skimmed briefly over him… then moved on.

An inexplicable flush of heat ran over Reyes’ body. 

His heart thumped in his ears for a moment. 

_Hello, Pathfinder._


	16. Epilogue: Whiskey, Wine and Cider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and Keema have a girls' night in, and Reyes reflects on his good fortune.

Keema leaned back on the couch and gestured expansively with one hand. “And the rest, as you know, is history.” 

Mara beamed at her. The two women were having a girls’ night in at Reyes and Mara’s house in the Kadaran mountains. The wine and cider were flowing freely, and Keema had kept Mara in laughter and tears for the past few hours with her account of meeting Reyes. Mara already knew Reyes’ story, but it was fascinating to hear it from Keema’s considerably more emotional perspective. 

Mara impulsively reached over and hugged her angaran friend. “I'm so glad you told me all of this,” she said as she and Keema separated. “I had no idea that you'd gone through so much before the exiles got here. You're so elegant and in control all the time!”

Keema laughed and crossed her legs. “Reyes would laugh to hear you say that. He's seen me at my absolute worst. He met me at my worst, in fact! And still he stuck with me. He must be a glutton for punishment.” She chuckled self-deprecatingly. 

“No way,” Mara replied immediately. “He’s lucky to have you. Actually, I feel like I need to thank you. The way things were going, with Sloane, and the Collective… Reyes might have been a very different man by the time I met him, if not for you.” 

Keema smiled gently. “If not for him, I would probably be dead.” 

Mara sat forward and picked up her pint glass and handed Keema her wine glass. “To Reyes,” she said. 

Keema tapped her glass gently against Mara’s glass. “To Reyes, and his generosity.”

Mara smiled. “And his intelligence.”

Keema grinned. “And his ridiculous sense of humour.”

Mara grinned back, and her eyes flashed mischievously. “And his cute butt.” 

Keema burst out laughing. “Too far, Pathfinder! I need more wine before we go down that road!”

Mara hopped up from the couch and bounced into the kitchen. “More wine, you say? Your wish is my command!”

A couple of hours later, Reyes walked in the front door to find Mara and Keema huddled on one of the couches together, clearly in the midst of an intimate conversation. From Mara’s loose, suggestive hand gestures and the drunken cackling emanating from both of them, Reyes was fairly sure he knew what they were talking about.

He strolled into the living room, hands in his pockets, and raised one eyebrow. “I hope you aren’t talking about me. And if you are, I hope it’s all good.” He smiled charmingly at both of them. 

“Reeeeeeeyes!” they squealed, Mara flinging her arms wide in a wordless request for a hug while Keema gestured wildly for him to approach. They were clearly three sheets to the wind. _I can’t decide if it’s safer to run away or join them,_ he thought with amusement as he walked over to the couch they shared. As he came within a metre of the two women, the smell of _booze_ suddenly hit him like an invisible brick wall. 

Reyes reeled back. “Woah,” he said. “How long have you two been at it?” Keema shifted over and he plopped down between them on the couch, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. 

“Five hours,” Mara chirped as she curled up beside him like a cat and trailed her fingers along his thigh. Reyes stared at her. “Five _hours_? You’ve been drinking like this for five hours straight?”

“Nono no, of course not,” Keema insisted muzzily. “We’ve just been drinking like this for… maybe two hours.” 

Reyes laughed and shook his head. “Okay, that’s fair. Let me get a drink too. I’ll join you in the Land of Lushes.” He pushed himself to his feet. 

“Reyes! While you’re up, can you bring me another cider?” Mara requested eagerly as he headed towards the bar on the left side of the room. 

Keema chimed in. “And an adhi sandwich! Bring us an adhi sandwich while you’re up.” She promptly burst out laughing, but Mara gasped. “That’s an _amazing_ idea. No seriously, it’s amazing. Reyes, can you make us a sandwich?”

Reyes poured himself a whiskey and looked at the two women with fond exasperation. “Seriously?” 

“Yes! Omigod I’m _so_ hungry now that you mention it. I really really want a sandwich,” Mara pleaded. 

“Make us a sandwich! Come on, Reyes, I know for a fact you make the best adhi sandwiches in the whole galaxy.” Keema fluttered her eyelashes coaxingly at him.

Finally he rolled his eyes. “Fine. You owe me, though.” As he disappeared into the kitchen, Keema and Mara cheered as though he’d just defeated the Archon. 

As he prepared two (excellent, if he did say so himself) adhi sandwiches for Keema and Mara, Reyes peeked into the living room. They were huddled together on the couch again. Keema murmured something to Mara, then Mara threw her head back with wanton laughter. Reyes grinned and shook his head fondly. 

He had always prided himself on never needing anyone. When Keema had come into his life, he’d realized what he’d been missing by staying distant from everyone his whole life. Then Mara had set foot on Kadara, and his whole life had changed irrevocably. 

Throughout his life, Reyes had had moments of doubt and resentment for the cards he’d been dealt. He’d often regretted the decisions that had led him to joining the Andromeda Initiative. But now, standing in his kitchen with two sandwiches in his hands for the two women he loved most in the whole universe, Reyes knew it had been worth it. 

Everything he’d gone through was worth it for Keema and Mara. 

For his real family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To any readers who have stuck with Keema and Reyes throughout this tale: I LOVE YOU ALL! Thank you for taking the time to follow these two in their epic friendship! Your comments have encouraged me all along the way. Kudos to YOU! <3 <3


End file.
